The Reward
by New Moon Nut
Summary: A Sam & Bella imprint story. The Quileute believe the imprint is a reward for a spirit-warrior's sacrifice.  Sam doesn't see it that way.
1. Chapter 1: Imprint

A/N: Thank you to RaindropSoup and Sweetishbuble at Project Team Beta for all their help and advice. It's a wonderfully generous thing they do.

Chapter 1: Imprint

Sam's POV:

I had been following her scent for almost an hour before I came upon her body curled up in the fetal position on the forest floor.

_What __had __they __done __to __her? _I wondered, eyeing her motionless form_. __Stupid __girl. __What __did __she __think __was __going __to __happen? __Fucking __leeches._

I used my heightened wolf senses to evaluate her. I didn't smell any blood. Her heart rate was steady, and she was breathing, but she didn't move except to shiver on the cold, wet ground. She was soaked, and the temperature was still dropping. I had to get her back to her father quickly. As small and frail as she was, it wouldn't take long for exposure to do irreversible damage.

I retreated to where I had left the propane lantern, and phased back into my human form. She was probably frightened enough without being set upon by a giant black wolf. Worried and angry, I quickly made my way back to her. All I kept thinking was, _If __those __damn __bloodsuckers __have __harmed __a __hair __on __her __head, __I __will __consider __the __treaty __broken __and __will __hunt __them __down __and __kill __them __all._

As I broke through the bushes, the light from my lantern spilled over her tiny form, and her eyes fluttered. She raised her arm and put the back of her hand up to her eyes, sheilding herself from the bright light.

"Bella," I said, letting her know she had been found. She moved her hand slightly to squint up at me.

The moment her eyes met mine, the ground seemed to shift underneath me. I felt lightheaded, almost dizzy. I glanced at our surroundings, quickly trying to get my bearings. Nothing seemed wrong. The only thing out of place here was the miserable-looking girl in front of me, and when my eyes flashed back to hers, all I wanted in this world was to make sure she was safe, protected, and cared for.

_But that's my purpose, right? I'm a protector. That's why I phased in the first place — to protect the tribe. But she isn't a member of the tribe. Shit! It sucks being the first to go through this crap. Is this normal? Everything about being a wolf is confusing, and I don't have any fucking clue. _

It was just pissing me off to think about it, so I focused on the situation at hand. I had to know what they did to her.

"Have you been hurt?" I asked.

It wasn't a difficult question, but she just stared at me, bewildered.

_Maybe she's had too much exposure to the cold and damp. She might not be able to think clearly._

"Bella, my name is Sam Uley," I introduced myself.

Still, she looked confused.

"Charlie sent me to look for you," I explained. Her eyes widened in recognition at her father's name_._

_Okay. __I__'__ve __got __something __to __work __with __here._

I held out my hand to her, silently offering to her help up. She just stared at it.

…_Or __maybe __not, _I thought, backtracking_. __She __can__'__t __be __more __than __a __hundred-ten, __even __sopping __wet. __I __can __carry __her — __no __problem._

I bent over, set the lantern down, and scooped her up in my arms. She didn't fight me. She hung there limply, her icy cheek pressed against my hot chest. My excessive body heat was finally going to be put to good use. I heaved her up a little higher into my arms, and she curled slightly into my warmth. For some unknown reason, I liked the feel of her in my arms — like that was where she belonged. It was the place where I would always know she was safe. I shook off the strange sensation and took off through the forest towards Charlie's house. The darkness wasn't a problem for my keen eyes, and I moved swiftly through the forest until Bella started to whimper and speak in a weak, sad voice.

"He's gone," she said over and over again, like she was trying to make herself believe it.

I squeezed her tighter to me and hushed her like a baby.

_What the fuck? I'm Sam Uley. Tough, strong, leader of the pack. Not a fucking pussy. This makes absolutely no fucking sense. Now, I'm soothing the leech-lover. _

I picked up my pace. I had to get rid of the girl and fast. She was turning my brain to shit.

When I could see the flood lights on top of Charlie's cruiser and hear the commotion of the men coordinating the search, I slowed my pace and looked down at the face of the girl in my arms. She was just a pitiful little white girl, nothing special. But the closer I got to Charlie's, the tighter I held her, and the more I had to fight the desire to turn around and take her away.

_These people can't protect her like I can. _

I shoved the desire to hide her away and keep her all to myself aside, and then called out, "I've got her."

Everyone became silent for a second, and then the commotion in front of Charlie's house got louder as everyone turned and headed across the yard to meet us. Charlie was the first to reach us, his eyes huge with fright when he saw Bella limp in my arms.

"Oh, God, no," he said under his breath. "Is she…?"

"No. I don't think she's hurt," I answered. "She just keeps saying 'He's gone.'"

He nodded, and we both looked at Bella's face. Her eyes were wide and she was biting her lip. I wanted to use my finger to stop her, but fought the urge.

"Bella, honey, are you alright?" Charlie asked her, worry distorting his voice.

"Charlie?" she asked, her voice small.

"I'm right here, baby."

Charlie held out his arms for her, and I gently transferred her to him. He staggered under her weight, and I wanted to snatch her back.

"Maybe, I should just hold on to her," I suggested.

"I've got her," Charlie said, a little breathless.

He turned and slowly made his way towards his house, struggling. I followed closely, my arms ready to catch her if he couldn't manage.

"We're almost home now, honey," Charlie mumbled now and then.

He made it to their front porch, and I held the door open for them with my arm extended towards them, just in case. I followed them inside and watched as Charlie deposited Bella on the couch.

She was home and she had lots of people there to make sure she was alright, but I was hesitant to turn and leave. It was my responsibility to find out what happened to her and what the Cullens were up to, but I also needed to make sure she was all right for my own piece of mind.

_She's here with her father. She's safe. What do you want… her to beg you to stay? I'm losing my fucking mind._

Jared and Paul came to stand next to me as I watched Dr. Gerandy tend to Bella.

"You okay?" Jared asked me, giving me a funny look.

"Yeah, just want to hear what she has to say."

Jared nodded, and we stood and watched as Dr. Gerandy told her father she just needed rest and she would be fine. I didn't realize my fists were clinched until they relaxed at his reassurance. Then, he told Charlie that the Cullens had left town without any warning, and I was glad — that was, until I noticed Bella shrink into the couch and pull the quilt over her ears to block out their discussion.

_He __really __did __a __number __on __her. __Fucking __Bloodsucker. __Good __riddance._

I signaled for Jared and Paul to follow me outside. When we reached the side yard where no one could overhear us, I instructed them to go to the Cullen's and check out the house.

"Make sure they're gone," I commanded firmly.

"Where are you going?" Paul asked, baffled. "Don't you want to see for yourself?"

"I have to speak to someone," I said harshly, not elaborating. The last thing I needed was to get into a discussion about my newly discovered soft spot for the vampire lover. It was my toughness that had kept these guys in line so far. I couldn't show weakness of any kind as leader of the pack. I looked at them and said, "I'll catch up with you back up at the Rez."

They looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders before heading into the forest to follow my orders. I made my way back around to the front of the house and waited until Charlie started thanking everyone and kicking them out to approach Harry Clearwater. I decided to ask Harry about what happened to me in the forest with Bella. He was a tribal elder and knew everything about pack legends. Plus, I had dated his daughter, Leah, so I trusted him.

"Harry, can I have a word?" I asked him discreetly as he came to the bottom of the front steps.

"Sure, sure," he answered and followed me back to the side of the house. "What's up?"

"Something happened to me in the forest tonight."

His face became worried and his eyes quickly scanned over me, looking for an injury of some sort.

"I wasn't hurt," I assured him. "I…I don't know. It was just strange." I paused, unsure how to explain the small shift that has occurred inside me. "When I found Bella, I looked at her, and something changed,"

Harry's eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"Inside me," I elaborated. "It was like I was seeing her differently. Like she's important for some reason, but I don't know why. She's just a vampire lovin' paleface, but…"

Harry nodded his head for me to continue.

"…but…I don't know." I sighed in frustration. "Just forget it."

"No," he said. "If it has you this upset, then there may be something to it. I'll check with a couple of the other council members, and we'll talk again later. Okay?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "Okay."

I headed into the forest and phased. I ran as fast as I could, trying to clear my head. Then, I circled back around to the reservation. As I approached, I saw that the bonfires had been lit and everyone on the reservation joined in the celebration. Jared and Paul confirmed that the Cullen's house was empty and that there were no fresh vampire scents anywhere near. I was relieved the Cullens were gone. I thought that, maybe, my life could go back to normal.

I had a few beers and socialized, but I couldn't seem to stop thinking about Bella. Images of her face flashed in my mind, along with memories of her small body in my arms. I felt itchy in my own skin, and it was starting to really irritate me how I couldn't get her off my mind. The way she had looked so broken and helpless on the forest floor was haunting me.

_What the hell is wrong with me? I never lose it like this._

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Harry Clearwater, Old Quil Ateara, and Billy Black with their heads together, each taking turns talking and glancing my way. I was just about to go over and join them when Harry stepped towards the fire and held his hands up, getting everyone's attention.

"Time for the old stories," he announced.

It was a tradition at Quileute gatherings to listen to the elders tell our history through stories. Until I had phased, I thought the stories were just legends to teach the young how to behave and to give us a sense of unity. Now, I knew better.

I listened as Old Quil told the story of a young wolf-warrior who was visited one night in the forest by a snowy white owl. The owl had asked the wolf what he was doing in the forest every night alone. The wolf had told the owl he was looking out for his people and that he was their lone protector, as none of the other men of the tribe had ever crossed the scent of a Cold One — causing them to phase. The owl's big eyes had seen the loneliness in the wolf's heart, and she had wanted to give the wolf a reward for his sacrifice. She had given the wolf a downy feather from the underside of her wing and instructed the wolf to return to the center of his village the next morning and let the feather go adrift on the wind and to follow it. Wherever the feather had landed, he would find his treasure. The wolf had been skeptical, but then the owl had begun to shimmer in the moonlight, and the wolf knew that it was no ordinary owl. So, the next morning the wolf did as the owl had instructed and followed the feather as it danced through the air. His people went about their morning work until they had noticed the warrior curiously following the feather. A crowd had gathered and the whole village, thinking the warrior had gone mad, watched as the feather came to land in the hair of a young maiden. He had looked into her eyes and received his reward — his soul mate. And from then on he was no longer lonely.

Old Quil had finished his story and was looking directly at me. I had heard this story before. Our legends had said that it was possible for a wolf to find his soul mate by looking into her eyes and imprinting on her.

_Why __would __he __tell __this __story __and __look __at __me __like __that? __He __didn__'__t __think __that __I__…__? __No. __It__'__s __impossible_.

I shook my head at Old Quil, and then looked to Harry and Billy. They all had the same knowing looks on their faces. I stood and retreated out of the firelight, anger suddenly coursing through me. The three elders followed me. When we were out of earshot, I turned to confront them.

"Don't tell me you actually think that I imprinted on Bella Swan," I accused.

"This is a rare gift, Sam," Billy said. "The great owl has seen your sacrifice and you have been given a reward."

"Well, she can keep it," I snapped.

I paced back and forth for a minute, running my fingers through my hair and pulling at the back of my head in frustration. Then, I turned back to them, letting my thoughts spill from my mouth.

"I don't want this and I don't want her. She's a paleface. Is it even possible to imprint on a paleface?" I didn't wait for an answer. "She's a leech-lover. She's small and weak. What could we possibly have in common?" I paused and took a deep breath. Then, I looked at the calm faces of Billy, Harry, and Old Quil. "I don't want this — not with her."

They looked at each other, their faces grave, and then at me. It was Harry who spoke first.

"It will only cause pain to try and fight the imprint. You won't be able to stay away," he cautioned.

I rolled my eyes at him and shook my head in disbelief.

"Some reward," I muttered sarcastically, as I turned and stalked off into the night.


	2. Chapter 2: Searching

A/N: Thank you to RaindropSoup (she's awesome), afmtoo, and Mel at Project Team Beta for correcting my fuck-awful grammar. You guys rock!

Chapter 2: Searching

Bella's POV:

_I felt the smooth wooden floor beneath my knees, and then the palms of my hands, and then it pressed against the skin of my cheek. I hoped that I was fainting, but, to my disappointment, I didn't lose consciousness. The waves of pain that had only lapped at me before now reared high up and washed over my head, pulling me under._

_I did not resurface. (NewMoon, pg.84)_

If it weren't for Charlie, I wouldn't have gotten up off that floor, but I knew I had to go on for him. So, I locked away the pain, closed off the hole where my heart used to be and did anything I could to keep my mind on other things. I kept myself busy and established a routine. I got up and went to school, and I studied more than I could remember ever studying before. I made Charlie's dinner and sent emails to Renee — saying what I thought she wanted to hear. I worked at Newton's Sporting Goods on Saturdays and did the grocery shopping on Wednesdays. And most importantly, I never did anything that brought back the memories … memories of _h__im_. I couldn't even use his name — not even in my own head. If I did, I wouldn't have been able to hold it together for Charlie. I made sure that everything was as it should be … except for the one thing I couldn't control — my dreams.

It came every night without fail, and it was always the same. In my dream, _I __was __lost __in __an __endless __maze __of __moss __colored __trees, __so __quiet __that __the __silence __was __an __uncomfortable __pressure __against __my __eardrums. __It __was __dark, __like __dusk __on __a __cloudy __day, __with __only __enough __light __to __see __that __there __was __nothing __to __see. __I __hurried __through __the __gloom __without __a __path, __always __searching, __searching, __searching, __getting __more __frantic __as __the __time __stretched __on, __trying __to __move __faster, __though __the __speed __made __me __clumsy__…__. __Then __there __would __come __the __point __in __my __dream __when __I __couldn__'__t __remember __what __it __was __I __was __searching __for. __When __I __realized __that __there __was __nothing __to __search __for, __and __nothing __to __find. __That __there __never __had __been __anything __more __than __just __this __empty __dreary __wood, __and __there __never __would __be __anything __more __for __me __… __nothing __but __nothing__…_

_That's usually about when the screaming started. (New Moon, pg. 122-123)_

I couldn't hide the screams from Charlie, and after a while he stopped coming to check on me. In the morning, we both had gone on as if nothing was wrong, but my lack of sleep was starting to wear me down. Each day became harder and harder to get through, and I started catching Charlie watching me with a worried expression on his face. Maybe I wasn't fooling him after all. The dark circles under my eyes, the lack of appetite, and the staring off in to space were dead giveaways that something was about to give.

The day it happened was a Wednesday — grocery shopping day — and I had just checked out at the Thriftway. My cart was full, and, as usual for Forks, it was pouring rain. I had made my way across the parking lot toward my truck, trying to keep my head down and stay somewhat dry under my hood, when my cart's front wheel got caught in a divot hidden in a puddle.

"Just great," I said, frustrated, as I stood there, struggling to get my heavy cart set right and get home before I was soaked completely through.

"Here, I'll get it," an exasperated voice spoke from behind me, startling me. A tall man came up beside my cart, looming over me. I stepped away from him quickly, my hand over my chest trying to calm my rapid heart. I couldn't see his face under his hood as he walked to the front of my cart and gave it a tug. He pulled my cart forward, making sure the rear wheel cleared the puddle before he let go of it.

I stared at the giant man in front of me. He was huge, at least a foot taller than me, and his shoulders were broad under his blue rain poncho. I felt small and vulnerable in the presence of this stranger, and I glanced around the parking lot to quickly make sure I wasn't alone. I was reassured to see another shopper loading their car. If I needed help, someone would hear me call for it.

"Jeez, I'm not going to hurt you," he asserted, sounding irritated with my reaction, drawing my attention back to him and up to his face for the first time. I wondered why this guy was so aggravated with me. I didn't ask for his help, and was about to tell him as much, when I recognized his dark eyes.

"I know you," I said without filter. "You're…?"

"Sam Uley," he filled in, impatient. The way he glanced away as he said it made me almost think he was looking for the quickest way to flee.

_I seem to have that effect on people. No one wants to be near me for long. _

It was that thought and the sense of dèjá vu I had looking up at Sam's face that triggered the anxiety that welled up in my chest. The memories of that night came flooding back before I could stop them. Flashes of Sam's face standing high above me as I lay on the forest floor, of me walking through the forest searching for _h__im_, and of _h__is_ face telling me he didn't want me anymore — that I wasn't good enough — all played out in my head, like clips from a movie.

It was too much, too fast. I felt the hole in my chest where my heart used to be — the heart _h__e _had taken with him — tear open. I closed my eyes, wrapped one arm around my torso to hold myself together, and grabbed the cart handle with the other to keep from falling to my knees. I squeezed my eyes closed and tried to control my breathing.

_I__'__m __losing __it, _I thought, panicked_. __I __have __to __get __away, __get __home. __No __one __can __see __me __fall __apart. __Charlie __will __hear __about __it __if __I __break __down __here._

And then, there was warmth.

A soothing, tingling warmth spread slowly up my arm and into my chest from my hand that was clutching the cart like an anchor to reality. The warmth soothed the ache at the edges of the hole and freed the air in my lungs, so I could breathe.

_I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay…_

As my senses came back to me, the first thing I noticed was my internal chant being echoed by a deep soothing voice next to my ear.

"Hey, hey. You're okay. It's okay. It's okay…" he was saying.

I slowly opened my eyes and looked at my hand on the cart handle. It was covered by Sam's much larger one. I was afraid to move. I didn't want him to let go. He was like a tether keeping me from floating away. I turned my head to look at him, drawn to his face so close to mine by his low, rumbling voice.

"Bella?" he asked. His expression was still hard, but his eyebrows were knit together, betraying his concern. "You back with me?"

I stared back into his eyes as he waited for my reply. My panic was momentarily forgotten, and everything in my peripheral vision faded to black. The only things that existed for me at that moment were Sam's eyes. They were dark brown with flecks of gold around the iris and were framed by long, thick, black lashes. He didn't say anything, but his eyes just seemed to know me. Like he saw me, _really _saw me.

_Yes. _I thought, mesmerized, then slowly nodded_. __I__'__m __back __with __you._

He slowly stood upright and put a little space between us, breaking the spell and bringing me fully back to reality. I broke eye contact and glanced around the parking lot again. The rain had slowed to a light drizzle and I suddenly felt self-conscious. I didn't know how long I'd been standing there staring into his eyes, or how long he had been there watching as I freaked out.

"Let's get you loaded up," he said, watching me carefully. He didn't seem annoyed with me anymore. Instead, he offered me a soft half smile and pretended that everything was fine and that I wasn't some kind of lunatic.

I gazed up at him, noticing that when he smiled, he was kind of handsome. But, as soon as I had the errant thought, I blushed and pulled my eyes away. I looked down at his hand that still gently covered mine. His eyes followed my gaze, and when he realized how intimate the gesture was, he quickly pulled his hand away. My hand was immediately cold, and, for a second—before I could stop myself—I wished he would have kept his hand over mine.

"The red truck, right?" he asked, jerking his head in the direction of my truck.

"Yeah," I replied softly, still feeling unsure of myself.

I followed him as he pushed my cart to my truck and opened the passenger door. He began loading my bags, and when I protested, saying that I could manage, he ignored me. When he was done, he pushed the cart to the cart deposit, while I waited awkwardly at the rear of my truck. He returned to stand in front of me, with his hands in his pockets and his gaze on his feet. It seemed like he wanted to say something, but he didn't. Instead, he sighed, and his expression became resigned. Then, he walked past me, around to the driver's side of the truck, and opened my door for me. His hand came up under my elbow for support as I climbed into the cab, and he kept it there until I was settled in my seat.

"Thank you," I said, my eyes coming back up to his. I wasn't only thanking him for the help with my groceries. I knew he understood what had just happened with me — how close I had come to having a breakdown.

"You're welcome," he replied.

He closed the cab door and stepped back to watch me leave. Before I pulled out of the parking lot onto the main road, I looked back in the rear-view mirror, one last time, to see him standing there watching.

I knew at that moment that something in my life had shifted, something small but important. Sam saw the hole in me and, in some inexplicable way, eased the ache and pulled me back from the edge. I hadn't thought it was possible, but for the first time since _h__e_ left, I felt a flicker of something inside me — not an obligation to Charlie or Renee, but something just for me. I thought that the emptiness was all that was left, but there was something there, and I felt it when I looked back at Sam watching me. At the time, I didn't know what it was, but if you were to ask me later, I would have said it felt a little like … hope.


	3. Chapter 3: Resigned

A/N: Thank you to Marlena516 and StoryPainter over at Project Team Beta for their magical beta skills.

Chapter 3: Resigned

Sam's POV:

There was no way in hell I was going to change a single thing in my life for that little leech-lover. No way. I had given up enough of the things I wanted for myself in order to stay in La Push and lead the pack. I wasn't about to give in on this. My life should have gone back to normal with the Cullens gone — as normal as a wolf's life could be, anyway. But, no. Bella Swan had to come along and fuck it up for me. The elders said that once the imprint was made, it was irreversible, and it would be painful to stay away from her.

_I call bullshit._

There was no force on earth that could make me want to spend time with the Swan girl, and I was going to prove it. I figured I just had to stay busy, keep my mind occupied, and stay as far away from her as I could. Out of sight, out of mind.

The first few weeks after I imprinted were bearable. I worked during the morning doing maintenance and some construction around the Rez. It wasn't a job I particularly cared for, but the council offered it to me after my first phase. I guess they figured they had to provide me some kind of living, seeing as I had to give up a full football scholarship to stay in La Push and protect my people.

Then, I would sleep in the afternoon until it was my turn to run patrols at night. There were only three of us in the pack, so Jared, Paul, and I took turns patrolling the forests around La push and Forks, looking for any sign of vampire activity. With the Cullens gone, things were pretty quiet, so I let Jared and Paul have the daytime shifts. They were still in school and needed to stay on a decent schedule. It also had the added bonus of keeping them from nosing around in my head. Besides, I enjoyed the quiet solitude of running patrol at night. At least I used to, until I was given the "reward" of imprinting.

_Yeah, __fucking __right, _I grumbled to myself_. __I __don__'__t __see __how __being __stuck __with __a __vampire __lovin__' __little __pale-face __is __supposed __to __be __a __good __thing._

I was doing okay. Staying busy and avoiding all thoughts of Bella Swan was working for me, but it was tough during the quiet nights not to let my mind drift to thoughts of her. It was like my body had this physical need to know where she was and if she was safe — even though my mind didn't give a shit. And, anyway, I knew she was all right. She had Charlie looking out for her and the vamps were gone, so in my mind, it was all good. No worries.

Then mid-October, about a month after I found Bella on the forest floor, I learned how wrong I was. That's when I decided to mix things up. I don't know why I decided to change my routine. It was an innocent enough decision, and I certainly didn't think it would change everything else in my life — but it did. I had been pretty much sticking to a set route when I patrolled, running the border of La Push and then waiting until almost daylight to do my circle around Forks. But on that particular night, I chose to do my sweep of Forks a little earlier than normal, and that's the reason I first heard them.

Bloodcurdling, heart-wrenching screams.

Now, human ears probably wouldn't have been able to hear them — seeing as her window was shut tight — but with my wolf abilities, they were loud and clear. And, I don't know if it was the anguish I heard in her cries or the fact that my body seemed to be hard-wired to want to protect her, but her screams left me completely wrecked. All I could think about at that moment was getting to her and doing something … _anything_ to help her. In a flash, I was at her house, phased into human form, and up in the tree outside her bedroom window ready to bust in — if that was what it took to get to her. Then I heard Charlie's heavy footsteps approaching.

"Bella?" he called frantically.

Charlie's voice broke through whatever compulsion I was under, and I froze, watching with my sharp wolf vision as he opened the door and looked around for some unseen intruder. His posture relaxed, and he sighed when he realized the only bad guy doing Bella harm was the one in her dreams.

"Honey, it's okay. It was just a dream. You're safe," he assured her, shaking her gently by the shoulder.

She awoke and bolted upright, repeating Charlie's action of looking hurriedly around the room before she realized she had only been dreaming.

"Oh." She sighed and slowly laid back down on the bed. "Sorry, Dad."

"S'okay," he said, standing there awkwardly, obviously not sure what to do. He hesitated before saying goodnight and leaving the room, slowly pulling the door closed behind him.

That was the moment when things changed for me. I couldn't have moved from that tree if ten vampires had been circling below. I knew in my bones that there was something wrong with my imprint, and even if my mind didn't really care what her problem was, I knew I wouldn't have a moment's peace until I found out what was wrong. I sat in that tree and watched her the rest of the night. She never went back to sleep. She just lay there perfectly still, curled around her pillow, and staring at the wall, waiting for morning to come.

_What__'__s __wrong __with __this __chick? _I wondered_. __She __should __be __relieved the bloodsucker is gone, not losing sleep over it__._

That was when my surveillance of Bella Swan began. Even as crazy as I thought she must be, I became fascinated with figuring out what was going on with her. The elders were right; I couldn't stay away. I came back every night, and every night was a repeat of the previous. Every night she screamed herself awake and then lay there staring at the wall. And every night, I sat in the tree outside her window staring at her. I memorized each freckle on her nose, noticed every curve of her small body, and counted every breath she took.

I felt like a creeper, watching her like that, but it didn't stop me. After a while, I began following her during the daylight hours, too. I snuck away to observe her anytime I could. I learned her routine—which never altered—and noticed that she never talked to anyone but Charlie and even then, only when she had to. I noticed other things too—like the dark circles under her eyes, and how she was letting herself waste away. Her behavior was pissing me off.

_She__'__s __pathetic, _I thought angrily_. __Doesn__'__t __she __care __about __anybody __but __herself? __Doesn__'__t __she __see __what __she__'__s __doing __to __Charlie? __How __worried __he __is?_

By November, I just couldn't take watching it any longer. When her bony ass got the cart stuck in the middle of the parking lot, I just couldn't watch one more minute of her little freak show. That klutz couldn't even cross the parking lot without an epic fail.

I admit, maybe I handled the situation a little badly. I didn't mean to scare her; I was just frustrated. After weeks of watching her act like a zombie, I had had enough. And I think she had been about to call me out on that shit, too — show a little backbone for once — but then our eyes met, and she remembered me from that night. That was when all hell broke loose.

I could see the panic on her face, her eyes glazing over before she wrapped her arm around herself and clung to the cart. She was losing her shit, and I was the asshole who had caused it.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity-fuck!_

I didn't know what to do. I had never had to deal with emotional shit. My dad had left when I was just a kid, and it had only ever been me and my mom. And she was tough, ya know? I mean, after my dad left, I heard her cry at night. But after a while, she moved on…

And that was when it hit me — I had never, not once, seen Bella cry. She was carrying all that pain with her all the time, never letting it go.

_I __don__'__t __get __it, _I tried to reason_. W__hy __is __she __holding __it __in? __Who __does __she __think __she__'__s __protecting__ … __Charlie? __She __needed __to __let __it __go,__ '__cause __I __know __that __shit__'__s __gotta __hurt _— _it __took __me __years __to __get __over __my __dad __leaving. __Fuck! __I__'__m __such __a __tool. __Why __didn__'__t __I __see __this __before?_

I had to figure out how to calm her down and make this right before she had a total meltdown. I knew I could be what she needed. That was what the imprint was all about — being what she needed me to be. I followed my instincts and reached out for her, and I could tell right away that was the right decision. She relaxed instantly at my touch, and as soon as my skin was on hers, I felt drawn to her. I stepped as close as I dared, not wanting to scare her further. I bent down and told her it was going to be all right.

I watched the affect my voice had on her. Her breathing slowed, her posture relaxed, and her eyes slowly opened. It was amazing how I affected her — the power I had over her. I had been under the assumption that this imprint business was a one-way street, with me playing the fool.

_It__'__s __not __all __about __me, _I deduced_. __She __needs __me ,__too._

Harry was right. Fighting the imprint only caused pain, and so far she was the one feeling it.

_I __don__'__t __have __to __like __the __girl __to __help __her __out, _I figured_. __I__'__ll __just __help __her __through __this __rough __patch. __I __would __do __it __for __anyone _—_even __her. __I__'__m __not __a __total __douche._

Once she had herself under control, I helped her load her groceries into her truck and made sure she drove off all right. It was hard to let her go. As soon as she disappeared down the street, I became anxious. I was the Alpha, so I tended to want to take charge and get the job done, no messing around. If it had been one of the pack acting stupid like her, hurting himself for no reason, I would have just knocked some sense into him. But with her, I was going to have to be careful. I knew she needed me, but I also knew if I wasn't careful, I could scare her off.

I had to figure out a way to ease into her life without seeming like a stalker. I was going to need help, and even though it felt a little like eating crow, I was going to have to go to the elders to get it. They were the only ones who knew my situation, and they seemed pretty tight with Charlie. Maybe they could find a legitimate way to get me close to her.

_Fuck __it, _I thought, and turned to head back to the reservation. _Here __goes __nothing._


	4. Chapter 4: Handy Man

A/N: Thank you to Jennrosee and EdwardsMate4ever at Project Team Beta.

Chapter Four: Handy Man

Bella's POV:

That night, after I left Sam in the parking lot of the Thriftway, my dream changed. It was the same dream I always had. I was still running through the forest, searching for the nothing that I would never find, but at the end it felt different. It felt like someone else was there with me in the forest, watching. I couldn't see them, though I tried. Several times I thought I saw a glimpse of someone out of the corner of my eye, but when I would turn toward him, there was no one there. The watcher didn't scare me, nor did he offer comfort. He just watched. And, although I knew he was there, it never changed how my dream played out. I always woke up screaming.

I suspected the new aspect to my dream had something to do with the way I felt after my run-in with Sam and the funny feeling that lingered inside me after Sam touched me. But that pleasant feeling quickly faded, while the watcher remained. Every night the watcher just watched, and every day I became more despondent. The new version of the dream didn't stop troubling me when I woke up. It pulled at the edges of my awareness, even during the day. I couldn't shut it off. It was like there was something important there that I couldn't see—something I needed. The more I dwelled on it, the more sullen and withdrawn I became. Until, over breakfast one morning, Charlie tried to engage me in conversation.

"I've asked Billy and Jacob over to watch the game on Thanksgiving," he said.

"Cool." I tried to sound upbeat but didn't really succeed. "I was going to cook a turkey anyway."

He glanced up at me while pretending to be concentrating on his scrambled eggs. "Well, don't make a fuss," he added, probably having second thoughts. "It's just Billy and Jacob." He didn't want to cause me any additional stress, but he didn't need to worry. Cooking was the one thing that didn't stress me. I had always found it calming, and since _he _never ate, there were no reminders there. I was looking forward to Thanksgiving. Well, as much as I could look forward to anything.

"It's no problem," I assured him.

A few quiet minutes passed, and then Charlie looked up from his plate and said, "Oh, I almost forgot. I have someone stopping by the house this afternoon."

"Oh," was my only reply. I had been lost in my own thoughts again, revisiting my dream.

Charlie sighed. He watched as I pulled apart my toast, not really hungry for it. I decided not to look up, so I didn't have to see the worry in his eyes.

"Billy's sending over the maintenance kid from the reservation," he explained. "He seems to think we need a wheelchair ramp added to the front porch, and he figured while this kid is at it, he can help me get a few things I've been neglecting around the house done too."

I nodded in disinterested understanding.

"I'll be working late, so I'll need you to give him my list"—Charlie tapped the paper on the center of the table, bringing my attention back to him— "and show him where everything is−give him a hand if he needs it."

"Okay," I said, giving him a half-hearted smile.

"Have a good day, Bells," Charlie said, sounding defeated. Then he got up, took his plate to the sink, and headed out the door.

I went to school and acted the part of the diligent student. I sat at lunch with the usual suspects, but they pretty much ignored me. I had nothing to say anyway. It was the same as every other day without _him—_lifeless and bland, no color, just black and white.

I came straight home from school and started the housework. I had been keeping the house spotless in my quest to keep busy. I had a routine down pat and could make it through most days without having too many moments where I lost myself in melancholy daydreams.

I had just put a load of laundry in the washer when there was a knock at the door.

_Oh, right. _I remembered_. Charlie's handy man._

I kept my gaze on the ground as I opened the door to let the kid in, but my gaze quickly traveled from his well-worn work boots, up his thick, jean clad legs, past his broad, flannel-covered chest and shoulders, to his very familiar and not at all boyish, face. That was no kid. It was a very tall, very manly Sam Uley.

He cleared his throat.

I realized how I must have looked—standing half-hidden behind the door with my mouth hanging agape.

_Pull it together,_ I reprimanded myself.

I snapped my mouth shut, shook off my surprise, and tried not to sound too muddled by his unexpected appearance. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

"Billy said you would be expecting me," he said, rolling his eyes. The angry, irritated expression he wore when he first approached me at the Thriftway had returned. I knew Sam and everyone else at the reservation didn't like the Cullens, and I supposed that he didn't like me by association, but that didn't really explain his hostility toward me. Normally, it would have bothered me that he was so rude, but I found that I wasn't bothered at all. I would have had to care for it to bother me, and since _he_ left, the only thing I cared about was surviving each day without him.

"Oh, yeah," I replied, finally comprehending that he wasn't there to see me. He was the "maintenance kid" Charlie had mentioned. I gestured for him to come in and added, "I just wasn't expecting _you_."

"Okaaaaay," he drawled as he crossed the threshold, sounding annoyed.

"Oh, no, no," I stammered, closing the door. "I just meant that Charlie said some kid was coming over, and you're not…well, you're not a kid."

Sam looked down at me, acting bored as he watched my little rant, making me even more flustered. I stood there awkwardly for a moment. It was very close quarters standing there in the foyer with him, especially since he took up most of the space all by himself.

"I…I have a list for you," I stammered, quickly turning to lead him into the living room. I needed to put a little space between us. Standing that close to him while he towered over me was unnerving. He had such an imposing presence. Maybe it was his size, or his almost arrogant attitude. Or maybe it was because that unknown feeling I had when I last saw him at the Thriftway had returned, and I had a strange desire to touch him.

I had been doing my best not to feel anything since _he_ left, but both times I'd been near Sam since then, I was feeling something. I just didn't understand what it was. I didn't think it was attraction because, although Sam was very good looking, I wasn't dazzled by him. His Quileute dark complexion and eyes gave him a kind of rugged good looks, not something that would ever grace the cover of a magazine. And, I wasn't afraid of him. He had rescued me twice now, so I knew he wouldn't hurt me, even if he didn't especially like me. I had no point of reference for the feeling. All I knew was that he stirred something inside me and whatever it was, it drew me to him.

I retrieved the list from the kitchen and returned to Sam, who was standing stoically in the middle of the living room. I tried to keep my distance from him as I extended my arm for him to take it. He eyed me with a quirked eyebrow as he took it and glanced over it.

"This is just some simple repairs," he remarked. "Why don't I start with the sink in the bathroom? Says here you've got a leak."

"Ah, yeah. Okay. Follow me."

I led him up the stairs to the bathroom, feeling slightly self-conscious with him behind me where I couldn't see him. When we came to the end of the short hall, I stood aside and gestured for him to go past me and into the bathroom to examine the faucet. I hadn't thought to account for his size and, as he squeezed past me, his hand brushed innocently against mine. I flinched at the sensation, but Sam didn't seem to notice my reaction. He simply ignored me as he set to work while I leaned against the door frame to silently watch him. My hand felt warm where he had touched it, and I rubbed the spot distractedly.

He took a couple minutes to give the faucet and plumbing underneath the sink a good once over and said, "This just needs to be tightened. I'll go get my tool box."

I backed up to give him room to get through but wasn't quick enough. He put his hand lightly under my forearm to steady me as he passed, saying a curt, "Excuse me." He didn't think anything of the casual touch. I was simply in his path, and he had guided me out of it. But, for me, it was overwhelming. The warm feeling spread up my arm and through my chest, bringing sweet relief to the dull ache that always lingered there.

_Oh, my God. _I gently rubbed my chest and took a deep breath, relishing the sensation._ It feels so nice. _

He was only gone a minute, and when he brushed past me as he returned, I didn't pull away. I wanted to. I was sure I wasn't his favorite person, and that he wouldn't appreciate me invading his personal space, but I couldn't help it. I was still intoxicated by his previous touch. Instead of getting out of his way, I leaned into him as he passed. The warmth felt so good. It felt like I had spent my time since _he _left being cold and numb and had forgotten what it felt like to be warm. Now, here was this warmth within reach, and I couldn't help myself—I had to touch it.

Once he was past me, he turned to look at me with an amused expression on his face and raised a quizzical eyebrow at me. That sobered me up real quick. I instantly regretted my actions and lost that good feeling his touch had given me, leaving only shame.

_If he didn't think you were nuts before, he does now. _I chastised myself.

I put my head down, mortified, probably turning bright red, and turned to make a run for it. "Um, I'll just go…" I began, yanking my thumb over my shoulder to indicate my direction.

"I'm gonna need a little help," he said quickly, before I could make my getaway.

I hesitated mid-turn, looking back at him. He looked a little panicked about my retreat, which I thought was odd, since only a minute ago he had an almost cocky confidence about him. But, his face had softened, and he seemed genuine in his request. I hesitated because I was embarrassed, but deep down I was relieved he needed me to stay. Embarrassed or not, a part of me wanted to be near him.

"I might not be much help," I warned him. "I'm not very handy."

His response was to offer me the wrench. I took it and raised a questioning eyebrow at him, not sure what he wanted me to do.

"Come here." He gestured to the spot in front of him by the sink.

I did as I was told, then stood there waiting for further instruction. It came in the form of him placing his left hand on the sink next to me while bringing his right arm around me from behind, and putting his hand over mine on the wrench. I froze for a second. I was completely cocooned by him, his breath gently moving the hair next to my ear. The heat of him radiated into me from behind while his hand provided a tangible point of entry for the warm, tingling sensations he was transferring to me. For a second, I thought I would melt; my knees became weak. I bit my lower lip, trying to retain my focus, and looked in the mirror in front of me to watch his reflection as he explained what he expected of me.

I watched as he looked in fascination at the side of my face before saying, "Just hold this still while I tighten it from underneath." He guided my hand that was wrapped around the wrench where he wanted me to hold it, then let go of my hand and disappeared down to the floor to adjust what he needed to under the sink.

My eyes fluttered closed at the loss of contact. When they reopened, I caught my own reflection in the mirror, wondering what had been so interesting to him. Sallow complexion, limp hair, dark circles around my eyes—I was a mess.

_Before, you were just ordinary…not good enough. _I pulled my eyes away, disgusted. _Now, you're repulsive. _

I was so disturbed by my reflection—the one I hadn't really looked at in weeks— that I wasn't paying attention to the task Sam had just given me. As a result of whatever Sam was doing under the sink, the wrench jerked unexpectedly in my hand, and I jammed my knuckles against the rough tiles behind the sink. Hard.

"OW! Son of a…" I squealed, dropping the wrench in the sink with a clang.

"What the hell?" Sam demanded angrily, popping up from under the sink in a flash.

I covered my injured hand with my other one, trying to hide the blood, and protectively pulled it in close to my chest as I stepped back away from him. It was an instinctive reaction to the blood, ingrained into me as a result of dating a vampire.

Sam scowled as he glanced down at the wrench in the sink while rubbing his traumatized ear, and then his glare flashed over to me. He took a menacing step towards me.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I repeated, suddenly afraid of him.

He hesitated, sensing my fear.

"What happened?" he growled.

"It slipped," I tried to explain. "I…I hit my hand." I cradled my bloody knuckles close to my chest and let out a hysterical giggle, trying to play it off as no big deal.

"Are you all right?" he asked. His eyes glanced down at my hand, and his expression changed quickly from anger to concern. "Let me see." His hand shot out towards my chest and the hand cradled there, surprising me.

"I'm okay," I gasped out, taking another step back from him. My giggles turned into a nervous fit of laughter. I didn't know why I was laughing. The combination of pain, lack of sleep, and keeping my emotions bottled up for so long had finally sent me into hysterics.

"You're obviously not okay," he said sternly, eyeing the blood. "Let me see."

He ignored my protests and wrapped his large hand around my wrist, pulling my bloody hand away from my body and up toward him, so he could survey the damage I had inflicted on myself. Meanwhile, I used my free hand to wipe something from my cheek, and when I looked at the wetness on my fingers, I realized my inappropriate laughter had turned into silent sobs.

"You tore them up pretty good," Sam said, then looked away from my hand that was held tenderly in his, and up to my face.

That was when he realized that I had completely lost it. His eyes went wide in alarm, and then, almost instantly, he knit his brows together in determination.

"I gotcha," he said, pulling me towards him by the hand he had been examining.

The next thing I knew I was wrapped in Sam's arms with my face buried in his chest. His musky, masculine smell and his warm, strong arms were the only things I was aware of as I let my emotional walls come crashing down. I clung to him and wept, my hand forgotten. It felt so good to be surrounded by him, so safe. I let all the pain of losing my heart, my love, and my dreams come pouring out of me as Sam held me to him.

The only thing I remembered after that was my dream. That night it changed again. In it, right before I turned to look in search of the watcher, an image of a giant black wolf shimmered on the edge of my vision. When I turned, he was gone and I was alone. Still, I woke up screaming.


	5. Chapter 5: Need

A/N: Thank you to Meteormuse and Remylebeauishot at Project Team Beta for keeping me from looking stupid.

Chapter Five: Need

Sam's POV:

She lost it—Big Time. But this time, unlike in the parking lot of the Thriftway, I let her. She needed to let go of all that pain. Trying to hold it inside was killing her slowly. Anyone could see just by looking at her—all skin and bones, no color; she looked like a walking corpse when she answered the door. That just pissed me off. That shit wasn't going to happen to my imprint—not on my watch.

_My imprint_. It sounded wrong in my head.

I was only twenty years old. I should have been off at college, having fun, and starting a new life. Instead, I was holding Bella Swan, the resident vampire lover, while she cried her eyes out in the tiny bathroom of her father's house. That was not what I had pictured for my life. But, to deny her something she needed would have made me physically ill, and apparently, what she needed was me.

I was resigned to the fact that she was mine to look after, but that didn't mean I had to like it. She was another obligation, another responsibility, and another person depending on me. In fact, I resented that I had to basically put my life on hold for her. I, once again, had no choice. No choice about being a wolf, no choice about staying on the Rez, and now no choice about helping my imprint.

And how was I supposed to help her anyway? I had no idea. All I knew was that she needed to cry, so I let her. And, fuck, did she cry. All it took was a little tug, and she fell into my arms. She fisted my shirt in her hands like she was hanging onto a life preserver, then buried her face in my chest and sobbed. Wet, snotty, gross sobs.

_This just keeps getting better and better, _I thought, disgusted_. Thank God, I can walk around shirtless, 'cause this one's going in the trash as soon as I walk out the door. _

I held her tight against me, while she cried. I knew she needed my touch. That was obvious by her reaction when I'd touched her earlier—her eyes had gotten all glassy like she'd been hitting Old Quil's peace-pipe, and then she rubbed up on me like a cat. So, I stroked her back and smoothed her hair away from her sticky face, but I didn't say anything. She did all the talking, and it was the usual: "I wasn't enough…It hurts so much…Love, life, meaning—over." Blah, blah, blah. You would have thought she was the only one to ever get dumped.

Eventually, I got tired of standing in the bathroom, and I figured Bella might take a while, so I swung her up into my arms and carried her to her room. I sat on the edge of her bed with her in my lap, her head on my shoulder, until she cried herself to sleep. I had to peel her arms from around my neck in order to pull back the covers and slide her under. Then I returned to the bathroom and got some antibiotic cream and bandages for her hand. When I had her all settled, I sat on the edge of the bed and examined her up close for the first time.

It was different being there in the room with her, touching and smelling her, instead of watching over her from outside. I ran my fingers across her forehead, pushing aside her long hair. Her skin was soft and smooth. I traced down her tearstained cheek, and ran my thumb over her bottom lip—pouty and pink. I picked up her hand and looked at it in mine. It was so pale against my dark skin, so tiny compared to mine.

_I could break her so easily, _I thought, and my heart lurched_._

I could never hurt her. It would literally destroy me. But, why was she given to me? I couldn't figure it out. My imprint was supposed to be my soul mate. The legends said she was to have been made perfect for me, to be my other half. Bella wasn't. She wasn't at all like the women I was used to. The girls on the Rez were tough. My mother and Leah were both solid, strong women. And there I was, stuck in charge of looking out for a delicate, little porcelain doll—so breakable.

"Why me, dollface?" I whispered to her.

She didn't answer. She continued to sleep, her breathing still shaky from crying, while I studied her and held her hand. I was having trouble getting up to leave her, but I didn't think Charlie would have appreciated coming home to find me in his daughter's room. So, when her breathing calmed, I made myself leave her there to go finish fixing the leak in the bathroom. I hadn't really needed her help earlier with the faucet, but I had needed an excuse to keep her near. It was stupid really, knowing she was so clumsy, but it helped me crack that shell of hers.

After I cleaned up, I went down to the kitchen and left a note telling Charlie I would be back the next day to take measurements for the wheelchair ramp—but really I wanted to check on Bella. I locked up Charlie's house and went back to the Rez to try and get some rest before my patrol that night.

The next day, I returned to Charlie's house, measuring tape in hand, and waited for Bella to get home from school. I was making myself look legit by climbing up on Charlie's rickety, old ladder to clean out his gutters when her truck pulled up right on schedule. I watched as she slid out and heaved the door of that old beast shut. She looked up at me and met my gaze, but instead of acknowledging me, she averted her eyes to the ground and made a beeline for the front door, pretending not to see me.

_What the fuck? _

Me being me, I wasn't about to let her ignore me. I took off my work gloves and dropped down next to her as she was walking up the path to the house.

"What? No hello?" I asked snidely, as I landed with a thud.

She squealed and jumped, dropping her backpack when I startled her. Of course, her jump turned into a twist, which caused those clumsy feet of hers to get tangled. She would have ended up on her ass if my reflexes weren't so fast, but I caught her by her upper arms before she hit the ground, pulling her back upright and close into my chest.

"Oh," she exclaimed, as she reflexively placed her hands on my chest, trying to find her balance. Once oriented, her gaze worked its way up from my chest until her eyes met mine. "Sam, I ah…I didn't notice you up there on that ladder."

"Yeah, right," I said under my breath.

My jaw clenched at her attempt at deception. We stood there for a minute; our eyes locked, mine shooting daggers into hers. She sucked at lying. The way her heart fluttered and how her cheeks got all pink and eyes got big—_so obvious. _

I looked down at her pressed close against me, and my anger was temporarily forgotten when I noticed that she was kind of pretty, all flushed and wide eyed like that.

_Shit! I cannot start thinking like that_, I told myself. _This is just a business arrangement. I help her, I get some peace—that's it._

I cleared my throat—and my head—and backed away, letting my hands run down her arms as I released her. It was almost imperceptible, but I noticed she winced subtly at the loss of contact.

Once I was no longer touching her, she began biting her lip, something I had noticed she did when she was embarrassed or upset, and her eyes began to dart around. She was looking for an escape. I couldn't understand what had happened between yesterday and today, but she was acting like she was afraid of me or something.

"So, um," she said shyly, looking down and taking a step away from me. "I should go inside. I have to start Charlie's dinner."

Uh-uh. She wasn't going to get away that easy. She might not have liked it any more than I did, but she needed my help, and I was going to see she got it. She was my responsibility, and I took my responsibilities very seriously.

"Hey," I said harshly, bringing her eyes back up to mine. "What gives? You don't want to talk to me?" I shook my head in disbelief. "I at least expected a 'thank you' after taking care of you yesterday."

Bella flinched at my rebuke and then hung her head, hiding behind all that hair of hers. She didn't say anything for a good minute, and when she did, I was the one who felt ashamed.

"I'm sorry," she said, still looking down at her fingers and playing with her bandage nervously. "I mean…thank you for yesterday. You shouldn't have had to do that." She sniffled and brought a hand up behind her curtain of hair to wipe under her eye where a tear had slipped out. "It's really embarrassing for me to think of the way I behaved. I'm afraid I made a fool of myself in front of you, and I guess I was hoping I could pretend it never happened."

_Shit. Nice job, ass-wipe. _I lectured myself_. She's not gonna want you anywhere near her if you keep it up._

I reached out and took her uninjured hand in mine, using my touch—the only thing I knew for sure would work—to make a connection with her. Her nervous fidgeting stilled immediately. She brushed her hair aside to look at our joined hands, and then her questioning gaze came back up to mine.

"Don't worry about it," I reassured her, checking my attitude and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. I had to come up with a distraction to lighten the mood and get her comfortable with me again, or I knew she'd keep trying to avoid me. I used my free hand to pull the measuring tape from my back pocket and held it up, jiggling it as proof of my intentions. "You can make it up to me by helping me take some measurements."

Bella looked like she would have rather run off to hide, but she nodded her consent and let go of my hand to wipe away the evidence of her tears on her sleeves. I picked up her backpack and stowed it by the front door so we could get to work. I kept her mind busy by having her hold the end of the tape and write down all the measurements for me. We didn't talk except when I gave her instructions, but I kept a close eye on her. I could almost read her thoughts by the minute expressions and movements she made. When I moved away from her, her eyebrows would furrow and her lower lip would start to pout; she wanted me near. If I touched her hand during the course of our task, her eyes would get that hazy, stoned look; she didn't only want me near, she wanted me touching her.

It didn't take very long before we were almost done, and I was racking my brain to think of an excuse to spend more time with her, when her phone rang. She glanced at the screen and then stepped away to answer it. My enhanced hearing made it easy to listen in.

"Hey, Char…er, Dad. What's up?"

I could hear Charlie on the other end of the line. "Hey, Bells. Sorry to do this to ya, kid, but I'm not gonna be home for dinner. They had a break-in at the Mill, so it'll be a late night."

"Oh. Okay," Bella replied. "I'll put a plate in the fridge for you."

"No need. The boys are getting take-out. You can have a night off from kitchen duty."

"Okay." She sounded disappointed. "Be careful."

"Always am," he replied, and then ended the call with a "See you later, Bells."

Bella put her phone back in her pocket and came back over next to me.

"Everything all right?" I asked.

"Yeah, fine." Her eyes didn't meet mine when she said it.

"You don't look fine."

"It's nothing." She paused, seeming to debate over whether or not to say more. "Just Charlie calling to say he wouldn't be home for dinner."

Not sure what to say, I nodded and shrugged my shoulders in response.

"Well, I think I've got all the measurements I need," I said while tucking the measuring tape back into my pocket, unable to come up with an excuse to keep her out here with me any longer. "Thanks for your help."

"No problem." She turned to go retrieve her backpack, but stopped and turned back toward me before going inside. She looked down at her feet again apprehensively, and dug the toe of her shoe into the ground like she was getting the courage up to ask me something. Finally, she managed a timid, "Are you hungry?"

"Bella, look at me," I said, as I gestured at myself. Her eyes were wide as they looked up into mine; her expression apprehensive. "I'm 6'6" and 260 lbs. I'm always hungry," It took her a second to realize I was kidding around with her, but she finally cracked a small smile. "Why do you ask?"

"I've got a roast in the crock-pot," she explained hesitantly. "I started it this morning, and since Charlie won't be home, I thought, maybe if you don't have other plans, you could stay? I don't really like to eat alone."

"I don't have other plans," I said. "But, I do need to finish the gutters."

"Oh. Okay. Great." She looked around, seeming surprised that I had accepted her offer and didn't know what to do now that I had. "Whenever you're ready, I'll just be inside."

I watched as Bella turned to go, tripping over the threshold as she stepped into the house.

I finished up the work I had started outside then entered the house about an hour later to the smell of a home cooked meal waiting for me. I had mostly been living on takeout and microwave entrees since my mom had moved away the year before, so I was looking forward to real food.

_At least I get something good to eat out of this imprint crap_.

The kitchen entrance was right off the foyer, so Bella came around the corner when she heard the door shut. She had her hair pulled back and was wearing an apron with little pink cupcakes on it. She looked kind of cute.

_Shit._ _Focus. It doesn't matter if she's cute or not. _

"So, um…you need to wash up?" she asked nervously, as she dried her hands on the towel she was holding.

"Yeah, that's a good idea."

"Well, you already know where the bathroom is, so…um, make yourself at home."

"Thanks. I'll be right back."

I went upstairs and got cleaned up then came back to join Bella in the kitchen. Her back was to me as she stood at the sink unaware that I had returned. I simply stood and observed her for a while. It was strange how I needed to learn every nuance of her. I knew it was the imprint in action because, until that moment, I couldn't have cared less about how the light above the sink brought out the red highlights in her hair, or how when she reached over to place the pan on the drying rack her arm looked like a ballerina's—all graceful and shit.

_I'm turning into fucking girl_, I decided.

"Where do you want me?" I asked, trying not to startle her, but she jumped at my voice anyway.

"I thought we could eat here in the kitchen." She gestured to the small table in front of the window that had two places set for us. "Everything is ready, except the rolls need another minute. Um, go ahead and have a seat."

I went over and sat down. Bella removed some foil from the platter she had ready on top of the stove and brought it to the table, placing it in the middle. It was heaping with roast beef, potatoes and carrots, all steamy and smelling good. It looked better than anything I'd had in a long time, and my mouth began to water.

"Looks good," I complimented her.

"Uh, thanks," she replied awkwardly, playing with the ruffle on her apron.

She obviously wasn't used to getting compliments. I decided right then and there that I was going to change that. When my imprint did something right, I was going to make sure she knew it.

_Girls need that positive affirmation shit_, I reasoned. _And for now, it's my job to see she gets whatever she needs._

The buzzer on the oven drew Bella away, and I waited quietly as she retrieved the rolls from the oven, put them in a basket, and returned to the table_. _She took off her apron and sat down across from me, scooting her chair in and spreading her napkin over her lap.

"You can help yourself," she offered.

"Ladies first," I insisted.

"Oh. Okay." She blushed, and her hand shook as she placed her food on her plate. It was becoming obvious to me that Bella was not comfortable with receiving attention in any form, even common courtesies.

Once she had served herself, I piled a generous helping of everything on my plate. The first bite melted in my mouth.

_Fucking awesome_, I thought. _It might be worth hanging around just for her food._

Bella glanced across the table at me as I ate, and she smiled softly, seeming pleased that I was enjoying the food. I observed her, too. She had taken small portions, which I supposed would have been expected seeing as she was so small, but she didn't do more than pick at it and push it around her plate.

"What's wrong?" I asked her between bites.

"Nothing," she said, laying down her fork. "I just haven't had much of an appetite lately."

"Obviously," I replied sarcastically, then reached across the small table and wrapped my hand around her forearm, lifting it into the air as an example. "You're all skin and bones."

I expected her to snatch her arm back and get all offended like most girls would have, but she didn't. Instead, Bella's eyes did that big and glassy thing again from my touch, and that gave me an idea.

"Come here," I said and pulled gently on her arm.

She looked at me suspiciously, obviously unsure about my intentions.

"I won't hurt you. Just come here." I gave another gentle pull.

She stood and let me guide her to my side of the table, her expression wary. I slid my chair back a little and steered her in between my legs. At this, she stiffened.

"What are you doing?" she asked anxiously.

"I'm setting you on my lap."

"I don't know if …" she began to say as she tried to pull away.

"Well, I do," I interrupted before she could finish, putting my hand on her hip and pulling her down onto my right leg, causing her to squeak in surprise. She turned her head to look directly into my eyes and gave me a death glare.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Take it easy, dollface," I said, wrapping my hands around her waist and pulling her in closer to me. "I just want to help you."

"Help me what, exactly?"

"Help you relax, that's what," I explained as I began rubbing small circles on her lower back. "You're too uptight. Let me rub your back, loosen you up a little. "

She raised a dubious eyebrow at me, but she didn't try to pull away. I knew she felt uneasy about letting me touch her so familiarly, especially with her being embarrassed about how she acted the night before, but she needed to get comfortable with it. It was imperative that I take care of her, and if my touch was what she needed to help her get over that Cullen parasite, then that's just the way it was going to be.

It only took a few strokes of my large hand on her lower back before her expression began to soften and her posture to loosen up. She turned her face slightly away from mine and stared out the window as I worked my magic by turning the small circles into larger ones. The motion of my hand inched her shirt up so I could run my fingers along her skin directly above her jeans. The skin on skin contact was all it took for her to melt into me, her left shoulder leaning in to my chest.

"That feels nice," she said after a few minutes.

_Yes. It does, _I agreed, having a difficult time stopping my hand from exploring her soft skin. But all I said was, "Yeah?"

"Uh-huh." Bella's eyes drooped, almost closing.

I could have stayed like that, touching her like that forever. Any anxiousness or stress I had been feeling over her was gone as soon as she was safely within my grasp, but she needed to eat, and I took her tranquil state as my cue to proceed with my plan.

"Bella?" I said quietly.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think you could try and eat a few bites of your dinner now?" I reached across the table and pulled her plate over next to mine, moving slowly so as not to break the trance my touch had put her in. Bella opened her eyes and turned to look into mine. She was calm and relaxed, and her eyes held no fear.

"Okay," she agreed. "I'll try."

My fingers lingered on her soothingly as she leaned forward and picked up her fork. She hesitantly poked a potato and brought it to her lips. For a second, I didn't think she would try to eat it, but she determinedly closed her eyes and placed it into her mouth. I watched her chew slowly at first, robotic in her movements, until her eyes popped open like a hypnotist had snapped his fingers in front of them and woke her up.

"Wow. This is really good," she said, acting surprised that she was able to enjoy the flavor. Then she began to shovel forkful after forkful of food into her mouth. She ate like the starving girl she was, cleaning her plate in a span of only a few minutes.

"Feel better?" I chuckled while pulling her back into me and wrapping my left hand around her middle to gently cover her now protruding belly.

"Mm-hmm," she replied contentedly and laid her head on my shoulder, placing her hands over mine. "Lately, I haven't been able to get down more than a few bites, but with you here…" She paused, looking down at her hands holding mine to her stomach, unsure of how to continue. "Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"What's happening between us?" She tilted her head back and turned her body slightly so that her cheek was resting on my shoulder, and she could look up at the side of my face.

I took a moment to think about my answer while I slipped my left hand out from under hers to reach under her legs and bring them up so that they were draped across both of mine. She was so light on me, but soft and warm. I liked the sensation of her there on my lap where I knew she was safe, but I didn't know what to say to her. I couldn't tell her about the imprint. She wasn't ready for that. She had enough stupid shit running through that little head of hers, and I wasn't about to let her know that she pretty much had me for her bitch—that I was at her beck and call any time she wanted. I'm not that stupid.

"You like it when I touch you," I told her as I settled my hand back around her. "So I'm touching you." It was a short version of the truth.

"But you don't even like me," she reasoned out loud.

I couldn't say anything to that either. I didn't like her, but I wasn't going to admit to it. I just looked down into her eyes and kept quiet. She must have figured by my silence that she was right.

"It's okay," she assured me. "I get it. It's different for guys. Touching and feelings are two separate things for you."

She was right, but really, really wrong. I didn't care about her, but at the same time, I had never felt the need to care for someone before like I did for her. And I'm not usually the kind of guy who goes around casually touching girls he's not friendly with, but all I wanted to do was keep Bella in my arms where I could feel her skin against mine and know that she all right. The whole situation was twisted.

"And you should know," she continued while removing her hands from over mine and turning slowly to bring them up to rest on my shoulders as she moved to face me, "that I get it and I'm good with it."

_Good with it?_ I asked myself, not following her train of thought. _Good with what?_

Before I could process what was occurring, Bella's eyes looked away from mine and traveled down to my lips. They lingered there for a second, and then she shocked the shit out of me by quickly leaning in and placing her lips to mine.

_Whoa, whoa, whoa, _my brain screamed.

My senses were suddenly overwhelmed by Bella's light, floral scent and the smooth, puffy softness of her lips as they tentatively brushed against mine. My whole body tensed up in response to Bella's unexpected kiss and the sensation of her little fingers sliding around my neck to lace themselves into my hair. I didn't know what to do. Part of me wanted to push her away, not wanting sloppy vampire seconds, and another part of me—probably my increasingly hard dick—wanted to take what she was offering. But the part of me that won out was the one that held perfectly still until she realized I wasn't going to reciprocate.

When Bella pulled her face away to look up into my eyes, her confusion was evident.

"Bella, what are you doing?"

"I…I thought that's what you wanted," she replied, pulling her hands away from my shoulders and curling them in close to her chest protectively as she realized her mistake. Her humiliation and distress at my non-reaction were plain to see in her expression and posture. She was curling in on herself and closing herself off from me.

"Why would you think that?" I tried to not sound like an insensitive prick when I asked, but I just didn't understand how she got that impression.

"Well, you…I mean…the way you were touching me and…" She was becoming visibly upset. Her eyes were starting to water, and her hands were shaking as she tried to scoot herself off of my lap. "I'm sorry," she apologized, then mumbled under her breath to herself as she looked down at the floor, "…stupid, stupid, stupid."

She was obviously extremely embarrassed, but I couldn't let her pull away from me. I had to figure out what was going on in that little head of hers so I could fix our misunderstanding. She had just been beginning to relax around me. If I let go of her, I wasn't sure she'd give me another chance to help her. So I tightened my arms around her, blocking her escape.

"Wait a second," I told her, pulling her back up into me and maneuvering her so that her left side was resting against my chest again and I had her cradled in my arms. "You're not stupid. Just talk to me. What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't thinking," she said, keeping her eyes down. I held her close with my right arm while my left hand took one of hers and rubbed the back of it with my thumb, encouraging her to continue. "I just got carried away is all. I just…I don't know. The way you've been touching me led me to believe you wanted…something, and I wondered what it would feel like to be kissed by you. So, I did it."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you wonder about my kisses? Last night you were crying you're eyes out over that Cullen guy." She flinched at the sound of his name. "So why all the sudden interest in kissing me?"

Bella took a moment then looked up into my eyes and spoke assuredly, not showing a trace of the nervousness or self-doubt that I always sensed from her. "The only time I haven't hurt since the night when you found me has been when you're touching me." Her eyes moved down from my eyes to my lips again. "I just wanted more of your warmth." Her hand reached up to my face, and she lightly skimmed the tip of her finger across my lips, her brown eyes wide with fascination. "I wanted to be a part of it. I…think I need it."

"You need it?" I asked, my face leaning down toward hers. The power of the imprint was drawing me in, using my desire to provide for her. She had expressed a need, and my whole being wanted to meet it for her. It was like some chic movie where everything else in the world disappeared except for the girl I held in my arms. "And you don't mind that I don't…?"

She shook her head slightly as the fingers of her raised hand trailed away from my lips and returned to the back of my neck, where she used them to guide me forward toward her.

"I know you don't have feelings for me," she reassured me as she started to bring her face closer to mine. She looked into my eyes. "I don't need you to."

"Tell me what you do need."

"Just this…" she said, and then her eyes fell closed as I pressed my lips to hers.


	6. Chapter 6: Distraction

A/N: Thank you to Twimarti and Raindropsoup at PTB. They generously gave their time, knowledge and encouragement.

Chapter Six: Distraction

Bella's POV:

Most mornings after waking from my recurring nightmare, I would lie in my bed, waiting for the sun to rise, and think about what could have been had things gone differently. But the morning after I cried myself to sleep in Sam's arms, my mind didn't drift to thoughts of _him_ or the possible life and family that I had let slip through my fingers. Instead, my mind kept going around in circles, trying to comprehend the previous night's unexpected turn of events.

The first puzzle I struggled with was Sam himself. His attentive behavior toward me during my emotional outburst in the bathroom had come as a surprise to me. It seemed so contrary to what I thought I knew about him. During our previous interactions, and up until I hurt myself in the bathroom, he seemed less than thrilled to be around me. His disdain for me had been apparent in his every word and action, and his handling of me was a means to an end. When he had found me in the woods, he needed to carry me, so he had. And when I had my panic attack in the parking lot, he got my attention by placing his hand over mine. They were both situations that called for him to touch me, and although his touch was intensely soothing and pleasant for me, I never sensed that he felt anything personal about the contact between us.

But last night after I hurt myself, his attentions went beyond common courtesy. They felt almost … intimate. He had pulled me into his embrace without hesitation and held me while I cried. He had given me comfort and made sure I got to bed with my hand carefully tended to — all of which, he did with a tenderness that felt almost affectionate. I had to wonder — why?

Sam's change in behavior wasn't the only thing that troubled me. Even more disconcerting was my own uncontrollable response to his attentions. Simply being touched by him inspired the most pleasurable feelings in me. A small brush of his hand made me almost euphoric, so much so that I ignored my good sense — and that made me uneasy. I had worked so hard to lock away all the pain in my heart that I had turned off all of my emotions, and now I knew Sam's touch had the ability to make me lower my defenses, leaving me open and vulnerable to the feelings I had so carefully suppressed. I didn't think that being vulnerable was something I wanted to be in the presence of a man whose motivations were so unclear.

But even though I didn't think it was wise to let down my guard around Sam, there was something about him that drew me to him, and it was more than just his touch. It seemed his whole persona, both mental and physical, radiated strength and assurance. When he wasn't acting conceited or rude, he had an air of confidence about him that was reassuring — like there wasn't anything he couldn't handle. When he held me, I felt small and feminine in comparison to his massive male form. With his muscular arms surrounding me, I knew no harm could ever come to me. And hours later as I lay alone in my bed, his masculine, woodsy scent clung to my skin and lingered in the air of my bedroom where he had left me. It reminded me of how when he had held me, all I wanted was to nestle in the warmth and security of his arms and forget about everything that was now missing from my life.

By the time the sun had risen and it was time to start another day, I was no closer to reasoning through all my concerns about Sam's actions and motivations or my physical and emotional reactions to them. The only fact my mind could latch onto with any certainty was that I had poured my heart out in a moment of weakness, telling a practical stranger my innermost thoughts and feelings and exposing myself completely. I had made a fool of myself in front of Sam, and any other concerns I had about him were now dwarfed in my mind by the amount of humiliation I was feeling at showing him the depth of my pain.

_What was I thinking?_ I berated myself. _And why can't I control my emotions when I'm around him? _

My anxiety level rose exponentially throughout the day. At school, when I would have normally concentrated on not thinking about _his_ absence and forced myself to concentrate on my classes, I worried over Sam, instead, and how I was going to face him again with any shred of my dignity still intact. I was dreading seeing Sam again, and it was frustrating because part of me really wanted to see him again — which didn't make sense, therefore frustrating me more. Back and forth and round and round my mind went until, finally, I came to the conclusion that there was only one way to end this torment — avoidance.

_I need to put this whole weird fascination with Sam behind me_. _I have to stay focused and stick to my routine — no distractions._

So when I came home from school to find Sam up on a ladder right next to my front door, I tried to sneak past him without having to talk to him. I really didn't think he would mind. I figured he'd be relieved to not have to deal with my erratic behavior anymore. But, it didn't quite go as planned. Apparently, Sam did not like being ignored — even by me. Before I could get past him, he jumped down off the ladder and landed next to me with a thud, almost giving me a heart attack.

"What? No hello?" he asked snidely.

I was so startled I would have fallen over my own feet, but he was too quick. He caught and pulled me right up against his chest, saving me from yet another nasty fall. It took me a moment to get my balance, and then I dared to look up into his dark eyes that were glowering down at me. He looked so angry. All at once, I was both a little bit scared of him and something else — something unexpected. With his large, strong hands wrapped around my upper arms, pressing me into him, and the intensity with which his eyes bore into mine, I felt a sensation like the flutter of butterfly wings in my stomach and a tingling at the apex of my thighs. It was the first time since _he_ left that I had that reaction to anyone.

_Don't be stupid__, _I admonished myself. _Y__ou have enough problem_s. _The last thing you need is to start having _those _kinds of thoughts about Sam. _

I disregarded my body's response to Sam's firm handling of me and tried to come up with an excuse for not acknowledging him. "Sam, I ah … I didn't notice you up there on that ladder," I lied.

"Yeah, right," he said under his breath, obviously not fooled. His eyes glared a warning into mine, until a strange expression crossed his face. He quickly removed it before I could interpret it, and stepped away from me, letting his hands trail down my arms. He had been the one to pull me against him unexpectedly. I hadn't invited his proximity, but as his hands slid across my fingertips, inciting the same soothing warmth as the night before, I had to fight the urge to grasp them before they could slip away.

At the loss of his touch, I suddenly felt exposed and uncomfortable — the exact circumstance I was trying to prevent by evading Sam in the first place. So, I quickly thought up an excuse to get away.

"So, um," I said awkwardly. "I should go inside. I have to start Charlie's dinner."

Sam looked at me, his expression a combination of confusion and disbelief.

"Hey, what gives?" he asked harshly. "You don't want to talk to me? I at least expected a 'thank you' after taking care of you yesterday."

His rebuke stung. I wasn't expecting him to care whether I talked to him or not, but as soon as he reprimanded me, I knew that he was right. I wasn't thinking about how thankful I should have been for the way he had taken care of me. I was only thinking of my own inner turmoil, and, in the process, I had behaved badly — again.

_I can't seem to do anything right._

Fighting back a fresh batch of tears, I took a moment to get myself under control, deciding to apologize to Sam and to come clean about why I was avoiding him. He seemed to see through my lies anyway, and by then I was feeling so wretched, I would have said whatever he wanted if he would just let me leave. Then, I could escape any further humiliation.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, hanging my head and hiding behind my hair. "I mean … thank you for yesterday. You shouldn't have had to do that. It's really embarrassing for me to think of the way I behaved. I'm afraid I made a fool out of myself in front of you, and I guess I was hoping I could pretend it never happened."

I kept my eyes lowered while mentally bracing myself for him to say something derisive in response, but surprisingly, he didn't. Instead, he reached out and took my hand in his.

"Don't worry about it," he said. I was surprised by the slight remorse in his voice and even more so by his large hand encompassing mine, offering me the now familiar warmth and comfort of his touch. I looked from our joined hands up into his eyes, not sure what I would find there. His expression was no longer angry as he pulled a measuring tape from his back pocket and jiggled it in front of me. "You can make it up to me by helping me take some measurements."

_Huh. Okay. That was … unexpected._

I didn't understand Sam's sudden change in demeanor or why he had taken my hand, but after spending the day trying to work out what this thing was between us and coming no closer to an explanation, I was frustrated and didn't want to think about it any more. All I really wanted was to go inside, where I didn't have to worry about Sam's warm touches and safe arms or what they could mean for me. I wanted the comfort and predictability of my routine. But, despite my desire to hide, I nodded my consent because he said he needed my help and it was the polite thing to do. I didn't want to embarrass myself any more.

Over the course of the time I spent helping Sam with his measurements, I found my desire to avoid him gradually faded and was replaced by an odd sort of pull toward him. We worked together quietly, except when Sam gave me instructions, and I tried to focus on not hurting myself like I had last night when I helped him fix the sink, but it was hard not to get distracted with Sam so near. He seemed to always be so close to me, sharing my personal space. If he had wanted to, he could have easily wrapped his arms around me, and I found myself thinking about how that would feel rather than paying attention to what I was doing. My inattentiveness caused our hands to graze more than once, and each time all my confusion and hesitancy about Sam would fade away, along with the constant dull ache in my chest, only to be replaced with the newly-awakened fluttering sensations of arousal in my abdomen. I knew I should have felt uneasy about how my attraction to Sam was escalating, but as long as he was near, I fell deeper into a dreamlike state, blissfully untroubled.

It was during that brief time working along side of Sam, feeling that strange draw toward him and floating along in a trance fueled by his touches, that I began to think it didn't matter if I understood what was happening between us. Whatever it was, it turned off the noise in my head and gave me something else to feel besides sadness. I had told myself that any disruption in my routine would make it harder to get through the day, but being with Sam had turned out to be a good kind of distraction. He still wasn't being especially friendly toward me, but that didn't matter. His mere presence eased my pain, and I didn't want that to end — no matter that it made no sense.

So, when Charlie called to say that he wouldn't be home for dinner, the thought of being alone and hurting again after the small reprieve I had gained by Sam's presence was suddenly more than I could bear. That's why I threw common sense out the window and asked Sam to stay for dinner — all for the chance to prolong the diversion he had provided me. I didn't actually expect him to accept my invitation, knowing his opinion of me, but he did. And it wasn't until after I stumbled into the house to start dinner and was no longer spellbound by his presence that I realized what I had actually done and the panic set in.

_Seriously, Bella? Inviting him to stay?_ I collapsed against the inside of the front door, palming my face with both of my hands. _So much for sticking to my routine with no distractions._

_Oh, but he is quite a distraction, isn't he?_

There was no more denying it — I was physically attracted to Sam. I was simply too emotionally distraught the other times he was near me to see the obvious. The tingling sensation his touch gave me, his smell, the way I felt in his arms … Last night, those things had seemed soothing; today — still soothing, but also extremely… stimulating.

_But what do I do now?_ I asked myself as I hung up my jacket and went to the kitchen to start preparing dinner. _He's not interested in me at all, and I don't have any feelings for him other than this physical desire to have him touch me. I can't just say to him, __"Hey, Sam. How about you stick around and hold my hand all day so I don't have to think about how the man I love ripped out my heart?" — Yeah, that would go over well._

I shook my head at my own stupid thoughts before securing my hair and donning my apron.

_Just get through the meal, __and he'll be on his way — __then you can go back to business as usual. No point in dwelling on impossibilities._

Before I knew it, an hour had passed, and Sam was entering the front door. I sent him upstairs to wash up, while I kept my mind from worry by washing a few dishes. I was reaching over to place a pan on the drying rack when I caught Sam's reflection in the window above the sink. He was standing behind me, leaning in the doorway. He had removed his flannel shirt, leaving him wearing a tight black t-shirt that displayed his generously proportioned arms and chest. And, like the day before, when I saw him looking at me in the bathroom mirror, he was watching me with a expression of awe on his face, except this time his gaze was not only centered on my face — it traveled over the length of me.

_Why does he look at me like that? Is he … checking me out? _

It flustered me knowing Sam's eyes were appraising me, but I tried to present an unaffected front as I directed Sam to the little table in front of the kitchen window where I had set a place for us. Then, I went about the task of serving him his dinner by placing a platter of roast beef and vegetables in the center of the table.

"Looks good," he said, a slight smile of appreciation pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"Uh, thanks," I replied.

I knew the second after the invitation to dinner had slipped from my mouth that I may have gotten myself in over my head and that getting through it would be awkward, but now the whole situation truly began to take on a surreal quality for me. I couldn't fathom how Sam, with his icy demeanor still intact, had come to be sitting at our small table, giving me compliments. He didn't seem to belong there, like he didn't fit somehow. It caused me to wonder why Sam had agreed to have dinner with me in the first place, and, as I removed the hot rolls from the baking tray and placed them in a basket, my thoughts went back to where they started this morning — questioning Sam's motives.

_What does he want from me? … His insistence that I help him with tasks that he could easily manage himself … the way he looks at me when he thinks I'm not watching … the way he goes out of his way to touch me — he wants something, but … what? _

Now, I wasn't stupid. I knew what those things meant when it was a normal girl that a guy treated like that. It meant he was interested in her, but I just couldn't believe that a guy like Sam could be interested in me. His unfriendly attitude aside, I got the feeling that with his good looks and confidence, Sam could probably have any girl he wanted. He couldn't possibly want me — especially knowing how damaged I was. Nobody wanted someone without a heart.

_Unless it's not my heart he's interested in …_

I decided not to pursue that train of thought and told myself again:_ Just get through dinner, __and he'll be on his way. _

I sat across the table from Sam and encouraged him to serve himself.

"Ladies first," he insisted.

I certainly wasn't used to such chivalry. Charlie was usually already well into eating his meal by the time I had everything on the table and seated myself. It did feel nice to be considered, though — even if it did make me more self-conscious to have his eyes watching my every move.

I filled my plate, and Sam did the same — and then some. It was almost funny how for such a large man he looked very childlike in his excitement over the food in front of him, as though I had just served him his favorites. It made me smile for the first time in a very long time, especially since food held no appeal for me anymore.

Sam must have noticed I was distracted. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," I said, laying down my fork. "I just haven't had much of an appetite lately."

"Obviously," he replied sarcastically. Then he reached across the small table and wrapped his hand around my forearm, lifting it into the air to show me that he'd noticed my weight loss. "You're all skin and bones."

I supposed I should have felt offended to have my physique criticized in such a manner, but Sam was touching me again, and I couldn't feel anything but relief.

"Come here," he said and pulled gently on my arm, breaking me from my haze.

_What? Why?_

"I won't hurt you. Just come here," he ordered, and pulled again.

Not sure what to make of his unusual request, I did as he asked and let him guide me to his side of the table — until he had me positioned between his legs.

_Whoa. What the …__ ?_

"What are you doing?" I asked anxiously.

"I'm setting you in my lap."

"I don't know if …" I began and tried to pull away.

"Well, I do," he interrupted and abruptly pulled me down onto his leg.

"What do you think you're doing?" I asked, becoming irritated at the way he was manhandling me and growing more concerned about his intentions.

"Take it easy, doll-face," he said, pulling me in closer. "I just want to help you."

"Help me what, exactly?"

"Help you relax, that's what," he explained, then began rubbing my back. "You're too uptight. Let me rub your back, loosen you up a little."

I was going to protest. I really was. Even though I had spent the previous evening nestled on Sam's lap just like I was now, it didn't feel right to let him touch me so familiarly. He wasn't my boyfriend. He wasn't even my friend, but once his hand was moving on me, I couldn't find the strength to object. So instead, I turned my head to look out through the window into the night and tried to put my thoughts in order, while my body succumbed to magic of his touch.

_He said he just wanted to help me, but he's made it clear that he doesn't like me. Yet, every chance he gets, he puts his hands on me. _

_And I like it — a lot._

Then, as if the fates wanted to emphasize that point, Sam's fingers slid across the bare flesh of my lower back, and I couldn't help but melt into him.

"That feels nice," I told him, whispering my thought aloud.

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh."

_So very nice … If he wanted to do this forever, I'd let him … but a man like Sam's not going to be satisfied with just some hand holding and light petting forever, is he? Sooner or later, he'll want something more. And if it's not my affection he's after, then it must be something more physical … that's what most guys want, right?_

Before I could think further on that subject, Sam softly spoke my name.

"Hmm?" I responded.

"Do you think you could try and eat a few bites of your dinner now?"

I opened my eyes and turned to look at Sam's face as he reached across the table and pulled my plate over next to his. His expression was serious, as if he was concentrating on something extremely important — but it was me that he was looking at.

It was at that moment, with Sam's warm brown eyes looking into mine, my body settled snugly into his arms, and with his capable hands lulling me, that I decided I would do whatever he asked of me, if only he would stay.

"Okay," I agreed. "I'll try."

Every other time I had tried to eat, it had been flavorless and sat like lead in my stomach, but this tasted wonderful. It was amazing. I cleaned my plate in a matter of minutes, then leaned contentedly back into Sam.

"Feel better?" he asked. Then with his right hand still gently rubbing circles on my lower back, he wrapped his left hand around the front of me to cover my full belly. It was a very intimate gesture.

"Mm-Hmm," I responded contentedly and laid my head on his shoulder. "Lately, I haven't been able to get down more than a few bites, but with you here …" I wasn't sure what else to say as I looked down to find my hands laid comfortably on top of his at my waist. I could feel some sort of connection between us. In the course of a single day, I had gone from thinking Sam a disagreeable stranger to feeling a level of ease with him that I had never felt with anyone before, not even my mother. I had to know if he felt it too. "Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"What's happening between us?" I turned my head so that my cheek was resting on his shoulder. I needed to be able to see him when he answered me.

Sam took a minute to think on his reply as he adjusted me on his lap.

"You like it when I touch you," he explained simply, placing both of his hands back around me. "So I'm touching you."

It became apparent to me then how obvious I had been in my need for his touch, but there was nothing obvious about Sam. His answer to my question didn't really answer anything. So, I was left to wonder — when he had no reason to indulge me with his time or attention, and I wasn't his responsibility or obligation — why would he bother to take care of me when I knew he didn't care about me?

"But you don't even like me," I reasoned aloud, hoping that maybe he would disagree.

He didn't. He simply stared into my eyes, making no denials or excuses. No — he didn't like me at all.

I had heard that it was different for men than for women. That their physical needs weren't connected to their emotional needs, and they could want to be with a girl even if they didn't like her. Without any explanations from Sam forthcoming, I had to draw my own conclusions about why he was still here with me, touching me. He knew my relationship history and how messed up I was. Maybe, he was simply making himself available as a rebound — someone to help me move on, and, in the process, he gets a little something in return. It was the only rationalization that made any sense — for him, whatever was going on between us was purely physical.

_If that's what he wants … and I want him to have a reason to stay, a reason to keep coming back … I need to give him a reason to want to continue to be with me — to not want to leave._

I decided that was what I would do — offer myself to him. I would just come out and let Sam know that I didn't mind if he wanted to use me in that way, because, in a sense, I wanted to use him too. I wasn't sure how far he'd want to take it, but I needed him, and I had no delusions of saving myself for the one I love, because I would never love again. I was broken in that way.

"It's okay," I assured him. "I get it. It's different for guys. Touching and feelings are two separate things for you." He didn't respond, so I sat up and turned to face him. "And you should know that I'm good with it."

He looked confused.

_I guess I'm not expressing myself clearly enough. Maybe, I should just take the first step — show him that I'm willing to let him go farther. I wonder if his kisses will make me feel as warm and tingly as his touches …_

Before I could talk myself out of it, I leaned in and pressed my lips to Sam's. He stiffened in surprise but didn't pull away, so I softly peppered his smooth lips with kisses and threaded my fingers into the short silky curls of hair at the back of his neck. I had to show him that I was willing to do more … to be more … to be something he needed — like I needed him.

But he didn't relax or kiss me back. He was stone still until I realized he wasn't going to reciprocate.

_He doesn't like it. Am I not doing it right?_

I pulled away from him and looked up into his eyes, trying to figure out what I'd done wrong.

"Bella, what are you doing?" His tone was cold and disapproving, making me feel suddenly very foolish.

"I … I thought that's what you wanted." I pulled my hands away from Sam's shoulders and brought them in close to my chest, bracing for yet another rejection. It was slowly dawning on me that Sam didn't want me at all — not even physically.

"Why would you think that?" he asked, like I was an idiot.

"Well, you … I mean … the way you were touching me and …"

_I am an idiot … a big, fat idiot …_

"I'm sorry," I apologized while scooting off his lap. I needed to get away from him before I started to cry.

_He must think I'm so stupid. He's right. I'm_ "… stupid, stupid, stupid."

Before I could get out of his grasp, he tightened his arms around me, blocking my escape.

"Wait a second," he said, pulling me back down onto his lap. I let him, not having the emotional strength left to contradict him. "You're not stupid. Just talk to me. What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't thinking," I said, embarrassed. He began to rub his thumb across the back of my hand, coaxing me to continue. "I just got carried away is all. I just … I don't know. The way you've been touching me led me to believe you wanted … something, and I wondered what it would feel like to be kissed by you. So, I did it."

"Why?" he asked.

"Why, what?"

"Why did you wonder about my kisses? Last night you were crying your eyes out over that Cullen guy." I flinched at the mention of _his_ name. "So why all the sudden interest in kissing me?"

I was afraid to tell him why, but I was more afraid that he would walk out the door tonight, and I would never get to feel his touch again.

_If you tell him how much you need him, he might understand. You have to try and make him see … you can't let him go._

I looked up into Sam's eyes, determined to make him understand how much I needed this. How much I needed him. "The only time I haven't hurt since the night when you found me has been when you're touching me." My eyes flitted down to his lips. "I just wanted more of your warmth." I reached my hand up to touch his face, to emphasize my meaning."I wanted to be a part of it. I … think I need it."

"You need it?" he asked, his face beginning to lean in toward mine. "And you don't mind that I don't …?"

I shook my head and slid my fingers back around his neck, guiding him toward me.

"I know you don't have feelings for me," I reassured him and leaned in closer to him. "I don't need you to."

"Tell me what you do need."

"Just this…" I said, and then I closed my eyes as Sam pressed his lips to mine.

Sam's kiss was unlike any kiss I'd had before. It wasn't careful or tentative. There was no fear of sharp teeth or venom — no cold restraint. From the moment his firm, smooth lips touched mine, I was lost in a daze of heat and sensual friction.

Sam took the lead, and I instinctively submitted. His lips guided mine — slowly, gently — pulling first my lower lip and then my top as he took his time tasting me. I removed my right hand from his silky hair, and brought my left hand from between us to drape both of my arms around his broad shoulders, pressing my palms against his back and encouraging him to do more. He responded instantly with his hands at my waist, lifting and turning me so that my legs fell to either side of his, straddling him. He settled me against him — all the while never breaking the kiss. Then, his tongue gently slid across my lips, asking for entrance to my mouth, while both of his hands traveled from my waist, up my back, and cradled my head as I let it fall back into his control.

Sam turned my head to the side, granting him easier access as I let his tongue delve into my mouth. I had never been kissed so deeply before. I was unsure if I was doing it right, but I tried to mimic Sam by making my tongue twist and stroke and caress his. I grew encouraged by the deep groan he let out as he took his right hand away from my head and wrapped that arm around me, pulling me tighter into his chest. I could feel the tips of his fingers come around my torso and graze the side of my breast as he pressed me to him. The sensation sent liquid fire to my lower abdomen, causing my hips to roll into his and a whimper to escape me, only to be muffled by Sam's mouth over mine.

Then, I lost track of time and space. I was so overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through me that I didn't know where he ended and I began. For what seemed like an eternity or only a moment, there was nothing but his hot breath on my face and his strong arms surrounding me, pressing my breasts into his hard chest and my pelvis into his growing hardness. I became so aroused that I couldn't think a coherent thought, except that I didn't want him to ever stop.

Sam's lips left mine but never broke contact with my skin as he guided my head back and to the side, exposing my neck for him to lick, suck, and nibble. I was his to manipulate as he loosened his hold from around my back, pulled his lips away from my skin, and leaned me back away from him slightly.

His left hand cradled my head as his forearm supported my neck and shoulders, and I opened my eyes to find myself staring up into Sam's face above me. His jaw was clenched, and I could see the muscles in his cheek flex. His lust-filled eyes roamed over my face for so long that I became impatient for more of his ministrations. I whined softly and tugged at the fabric of his t-shirt that had somehow become fisted in my small hands as I gripped feebly onto his broad shoulders, letting him know I needed more.

"You like that, pretty girl?" he whispered huskily.

"Hmmm," I hummed and nodded jerkily, not completely in control of my ability to communicate.

He didn't hesitate any longer, bringing his right had to splay across my stomach and slowly press its way up over my chest to the base of my neck, all the while his eyes watching mine. He looked so fierce and wild. I couldn't look away until his eyes descended to my chest, and he began undoing the buttons at the collar of my shirt. My breaths were coming in shallow pants as I watched Sam push aside the plaid fabric to expose my plain white bra. His gaze traveled from my chest to my eyes and back again, before he trailed his index finger down from the base of my throat, over the center of my sternum, to the hollow between my breasts.

I shivered and watched as a mischievous grin turned up the corner of Sam's mouth. He slid that same finger across my skin and into the cup of my bra, before swiftly tugging it down to expose my right nipple. Then he took his large hand and slowly wrapped it around the top of my breast, squeezing my pale flesh up and kneading it several times before releasing it so he could flick his thumb across my nipple repeatedly. I gasped as tingling pulses shot straight to the now throbbing center of my sex.

My eyes rolled back as I arched my chest up toward him, and he quickly took hold of my breast again and leaned his head down to take my nipple into his mouth. He sucked and licked, twisted and bit, until my hands left his shoulders and wove themselves into his thick black hair, and I began squirming in his lap.

I never knew anything could feel like that. It was primal, elemental, basic. It was a perfect distraction …

… and then it was over.

I was jolted from my rapture by Sam's lips suddenly abandoning my breast, and his arms swiftly clutching me to his chest, his body becoming stiff and alert.

"Your father's home," he said, a note of panic in his voice.

_What? My father? Now? _

I didn't have time to gather my thoughts or ask any questions before Sam was standing up with me still wrapped in his arms. My legs fell from around him, dangling above the ground while my hands instinctively clung to his shoulders from the dizzying movement. He acted quickly, taking charge of the situation before I had enough of my wits about me to realize that there was a situation. He placed me down swiftly, but gently, in my chair and knelt down on one knee in front of me to start buttoning my shirt.

"I've got it," I said, using my trembling hands to push his away. My senses returned to me when I heard the rattle of the front door being opened.

There was a blur of motion as Sam stood and stepped back to his side of the table. He sat across from me, returning my plate to my side of the table just before we heard Charlie call out.

"Bella?"

"In here," I replied, finishing with my buttons and scooting my chair in. I attempted to look normal but didn't know what to do with my hands, so I ended up just folding them in my lap. I glanced across the table at Sam but couldn't bring my eyes up to meet his.

"What are you doin', kiddo?" Charlie asked, coming around the corner into the kitchen. He stopped in his tracks when he realized I wasn't alone. His eyes traveled from Sam to me, then back again. "Sam, I didn't know you'd be here so late. Did you need to speak to me?"

"Ah. No, Chief." Sam replied, calm and collected. "I was just keeping Bella company until you got home."

"Yeah," I added, then stammered, "I asked him to stay for dinner since … you know … you had to work late." I was having trouble keeping my hands from nervously smoothing the front of my shirt, and I couldn't bring my eyes up to meet Charlie's gaze, either. I felt like if I did, Charlie would know what we'd been up to.

I glanced discreetly up at Charlie several times as he stood for what I swear was a full minute and took in the scene before him.

Then, all he said was, "Uh-huh."

"Well, I guess I should take off," Sam said casually, standing up. "Thanks for dinner, Bella. I'll … ah, see you soon."

"You're welcome," I replied quietly, keeping my gaze lowered. "Bye."

Sam stood and looked down at me for a moment, like he wanted to say something else, but didn't.

"Why don't I walk you out," Charlie offered. "You can show me what you have planned for the front porch."

"Sure, Chief."

Sam left the kitchen with Charlie right behind him, and I didn't let out the breath I was holding until I heard the front door close behind them. Then, I flew into action, wrapping up the leftovers and putting the dirty dishes in the sink. It was still early, but I wanted to get upstairs before Charlie came back in. I didn't think I could face him again tonight.

Exhausted, I skipped my nightly bathroom routine and slid straight into bed. It didn't take long for me to fall asleep. Even though my mind wanted to replay my time with Sam, my body felt strangely relaxed. The effects of Sam's touch lingering in my body like a drug, until I drifted off. And that night in my dream, when I turned to look for the watcher, the shimmery black wolf didn't disappear, and, for the first time in a very long time, I didn't wake up screaming.


	7. Chapter 7: Control

A/N: Thank you to RainDropSoup and StoryPainter at Project Team Beta. How they remember all those silly rules is beyond me, but much appreciated.

Chapter 7: Control

Sam's POV:

"Well, what I was thinking was … I would have the ramp come off the side and a landing halfway down the incline to make the turn toward the front. Then, just have a concrete pad at the bottom that merges with the walk. With the landing off to the side, I can make it less steep."

We were standing in Charlie's yard under the yellow glow of his front porch light. Charlie had his arms crossed on his chest and his lips pursed as he thought about my suggestion. It was only seven o'clock, but it had already gotten dark a while ago. The sun had been setting earlier every day, and the temperature was dropping steadily with winter setting in. Mid-November was too late in the year to be starting a project like this, but I didn't have any other options for getting near Bella, so I was going to roll with it.

"You would use cinder block and concrete for the ramp?"

"Yeah," I replied. "Unless you want to invest in some kind of synthetic decking material. That's your best option if you want it to look nice, but it's pricey. I definitely wouldn't use traditional lumber, though — not in this climate. You wouldn't get a year out of it."

"Can you work me up an estimate with the synthetic decking?" Charlie asked. "I want it to look decent. Maybe, get some nice railing, too."

"Sure. I'll head over to Port Angeles tomorrow — get some prices on materials."

"Good. You do that," he said, nodding.

There was a long silent pause as Charlie stared at his front porch. I could see by his posture and the way his eyes darted back and forth that he had something he needed to get off his chest. So, I knew it was coming when he finally said, "Listen, I know you're a good kid. Billy and Harry go on and on about how you've become a leader among the youth down at La Push. That's why I haven't given it a second thought about you being here alone with my Bella." Then, he turned to face me, his expression deadly serious. "You gonna make me regret that?" Charlie slowly looked me over and then settled his gaze squarely in mine. I could see the police chief in him, sizing me up, making his own judgments about my character and intentions.

"No, sir. I won't" I didn't look away. I knew a man's integrity was written in his eyes, and it was important to me that he saw mine. "I'll be back tomorrow afternoon to start on your storm windows," I said, breaking the stand off. "Have a good night."

It was time for me to leave. I didn't want to do or say anything else tonight that might aggravate the chief.

"Night," Charlie replied. Then, he sighed heavily and headed inside.

I walked over to my truck that was parked across the street, thanking Christ that Charlie had let me leave with my balls still attached.

Charlie had told Bella he'd be working late, so I hadn't been listening for his car like I should have been. But even being caught unaware, I should have noticed him sooner. It wasn't until I heard him slam the cruiser door that I realized he was home.

_How did I not hear Charlie's car pull up?_ I asked myself as I was driving away from their house. _That fucker's loud._

Of course, I knew the answer. I had Bella wriggling in my arms, rubbing her little body all over my dick — that was what happened.

Charlie had made it clear he noticed something was up between Bella and I —"up" being the operative word. A boner like the one I was sporting just doesn't disappear on command. I think I managed to hide it from the chief, but if he did overlook my not so little problem, there was no hiding Bella's appearance. My dick was getting hard again just picturing her. When I left, her hair was a nest of tangles from my hands, her lips were red and swollen from my kisses, her neck and cheeks pink from my stubble, and, most obviously, her shirt was buttoned crooked — she was a beautiful fucking mess.

Suddenly, I was feeling more than a simple desire to protect or help her through a rough patch. I was thinking about the things I wanted to do with her and _to_ her — very intimate things. Before, she always seemed small, weak and needy, like a child. I would never have thought of doing the things I now wanted to do. But the whole ride home, I kept replaying the way her soft skin felt in my hands — like silk, and the taste of her mouth — sweet, like candy. I could practically feel the smooth strands of her hair when I pulled it free from its binding and let it slip through my fingers — like feathers tickling across my skin. The thoughts I was having were definitely the thoughts a man had for a woman.

"Fuck!" I pounded my fist on the dashboard of my truck, leaving a dent.

I was frustrated with myself, with her, with this whole cluster-fuck of a situation. It was all spiraling out of my control. The evening had started out with me calling the shots. I had a firm grip on how things were proceeding; then she asked me to kiss her, and it all went to shit. Not to say that I didn't enjoy myself — I am a guy after all — but I hated that nothing was my decision to make anymore. I couldn't even control my own urges where she was concerned. Once I was kissing her, and she was making those soft moaning sounds … How was I supposed to deal with that shit, anyway?

By the time I got home, my mind was so wrapped up in confusion over Bella that I didn't notice Jared was sitting on my steps until I pulled up in front of my house.

"Where you been, man?" he asked as I got out of my truck. "I don't have all night. Kim's waiting for me."

That was just what I needed after what happened tonight — Jared throwing his perfect little imprint in my face.

"None of your fucking business. That's where."

"Whoa, dude," he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Touchy, touchy. I just wanted to let you know things were all clear during patrols today."

"Good. Tell Paul he has first patrol before school."

"Yeah, yeah." He replied like he already knew what I was going to say. Then, he headed into the woods without even looking back.

I deserved his indifference. I had been a grumpy motherfucker in general since I imprinted, and I hadn't exactly been supportive of him and Kim. He imprinted on her shortly after I imprinted on Bella, but it was different for him. He was happy about it. Kim was his age, and they went to school together. Although, she did seem like an odd choice for him. She was tall and skinny and awkward, with big, nerdy glasses and braces. She was smart, too — the typical geek girl. Jared, on the other hand, was the class clown — popular, laid back, and fun to be around. He had never even given her a second glance until they were paired up in class for an assignment and then — Bam! I was beginning to think that imprinting was a big joke, pairing us with exactly the opposite of what we would choose for ourselves.

Anyway, Jared was all into Kim now, and that was fine with me because it made it easier for me to keep my imprint problem private. I avoided being in wolf form with the pack if I could, and when I couldn't, I could count on Jared to constantly inundate us with images and thoughts about Kim. With that lovesick shit going on, they wouldn't have noticed even if I had slipped and thought about Bella.

Still, it was getting harder to hide my imprint from them, but I knew I had to. They wouldn't understand. When they thought about Bella, they were disgusted. To them, she was "vampire girl." She had offered herself up on a silver platter to that Cullen leech and let him do whatever he wanted to her.

Up until that moment, I tried to avoid thinking about Bella and that bloodsucker being together. But with what happened between Bella and I earlier, and the way I was starting to think about her … just the thought of him touching her at all made me so insanely angry I couldn't hold back — I phased instantly right there in front of my house, shredding another perfectly good set of clothes. I took off into the woods, needing to run. I kept picturing Bella with Edward Cullen's cold, pale hands on her, doing the things that I had been doing to her not an hour before.

_Did she let him?_ I wondered_. Did she let him fuck her like she had been going to let me?_ _Of course she did — they were together for months. She would have let me fuck her tonight if we hadn't been interrupted — and she barely knows me. _

"Aaaaaooooooooooo!" The wolf in me let out an agonized howl. Picturing her with him cut me like a dagger to the heart, but I told myself that it wasn't because she was my imprint.

_I would feel this protective of anyone one of those vampires laid a hand on.__ Didn't she realize how easily he could have hurt her?_

With that simple turn of thought, all my anger dissolved and was replaced with my ever-present desire to know she was safe. I tried to fight it, but I still ended up perched outside Bella's window. I needed to be near her, and, in the end, seeing her sleeping form and hearing the beat of her heart was what finally allowed me to think rationally.

_She needs me — I've made my peace with that. And__ I can't help that I feel less anxious when I'm near her, too. But __I have to put an end to anything more than casual touching. That's a line I shouldn't have crossed._ _I can't lose__ control like that again._

I sat outside Bella's window the rest of the night, waiting for her nightmare to come. But, for the first time since I began my nightly watch, she didn't wake up that morning screaming. The only thing I heard from her until her alarm went off was a few mumblings about "trees" and something about a "watcher."

_Huh. Ironic_.

I didn't want to admit it, but there could only be one explanation for her restful night. There had been only one change in her routine, and that had been our little make-out session. It didn't matter, though. I had made my decision — nothing sexual could ever happen between Bella and me again.

_No. I might not have any choice about being a wolf, but I won't let this imprint business dictate my actions._

_I'm in control._

_I call the shots._

The next day I made good on my commitment to Charlie and went to Port Angeles to price out materials at the lumberyard before I headed over to Bella's. When I got there, I headed straight around back to Charlie's shed to retrieve his ladder. I had screens to remove and storm windows to put up today, and I wanted to get that done before I had to confront Bella. I was going to let her know that if she needed me, I was there, but this thing between us was going to stay platonic. End of discussion.

I went into the shed and was backing out with the ladder in my hands, trying not to bang it on any of the crap Charlie had piled up inside, when I heard Bella's soft voice behind me.

"Hi," she said timidly. I turned to look over my shoulder at her, not quite having cleared all the obstacles in my path. "Do you need any help?"

"Uh." I couldn't come up with anything to say I was so stunned by her appearance. I had to do a doubletake. She was clean and rested. The dark circles under her eyes were still there but better, and she had obviously put some effort into her grooming today. Her hair was pulled away from her face, and she had put big curls in the ends of it.

"Um, no. I've got it," I managed to say, but I really didn't have anything because I couldn't take my eyes off her. I ended up hitting my head on the doorway and swinging the ladder into a stack of old paint cans, sending them clattering to the ground. "Shit," I mumbled as I tried to get the ladder back under control.

Then I heard Bella giggle behind me, and I froze. I'd never heard her do that before, and it shocked me. I leaned the ladder up against the shed and turned my attention back to her.

"Are you sure you don't want any help?" She was trying to stifle her laughter behind her hand but was failing miserably.

"Don't be a smart ass," I replied, a scowl on my face. She had me completely flustered with her bouncy curls and those sweet giggles. This was not what I expected to find waiting for me today, and my go-to reaction to anything unexpected was to get pissed.

She didn't pay me any mind, though, smiling as she moved forward into the shed to help pick up all the cans. "Here let me get these," she said.

"No, I'll get them." I rushed into the small space right behind her, knowing that Bella and a shed full of sharp tools and clutter was a bad idea.

"I got it," she insisted, and we both ended up in the small shed, reaching for the same paint can and bumping our heads together in the process.

"Ow!" She stumbled away from me while holding her hand across her forehead. Once again, my quick reflexes were put to use as I grabbed a hold of her before she could fall backwards over the push mower and really hurt herself.

"Are you all right?" I steadied her with one hand around her upper arm and used my other to brush aside the hand she was still holding against her forehead. "Let me see."

"I'll be all right," she mumbled. "But that's one hard head you've got there."

When she was steady on her feet, I put both my palms on her cheeks and guided her head from side to side, looking at the red mark on her forehead. Then, I lightly skimmed my fingertips over it, feeling for any bumps. It wasn't swelling, and the redness was fading. She was all right, and she was lucky because I did have a supernaturally hard head.

"You'll live," I confirmed. "But I think from now on you should just watch and not help. I don't want you to suffer any permanent damage."

I looked down from her forehead and into her eyes to find them staring dreamily into mine. I didn't realize how close I had brought my face to hers until I felt the soft whisper of her breath across my lips. She was right there with her luscious mouth and soft skin, and I was getting lost in her chocolate eyes.

I wanted to talk to her and tell her that last night had been a misunderstanding, that I had made a mistake in letting it happen, but before I could form a coherent thought, we were attached. Our lips were smashing into each other's, and her arms were flung around my neck as I pulled her against me. I wrapped my arms tight around her, trying to press her small body into mine, but she was too short. I didn't hesitate in dropping my hands down around the backs of her thighs and picking her up. She didn't protest. Instead, she wove her fingers into my hair and locked her legs around my waist.

_Holy shit! So fucking good! _

The way she tasted, the way she smelled, the way she pressed her soft, little tits into my chest … I couldn't help myself. I cupped her ass cheeks in the palms of my hands and ground my dick against her sweet spot.

"Mmmm," she moaned into my mouth, and I thought I would come at the sound of it.

I brought one of my hands across her lower back to keep her pressed against me while I used the other to support her head as I deepened the kiss. I was desperate to be closer to her. I wanted to kiss her and touch her and fuck her and … _Shit!_

Something in me snapped, and I realized what I was doing. I was letting her lure me in again. I fisted her hair in my hand, holding her still as I wrenched my lips away from hers to look at her.

"What are you doing to me?" I demanded.

She could barely open her eyes to look at me she was so far gone. She was drunk with lust, and my imprint-fueled instinct was to push her further into oblivion, but I didn't want that. I didn't want to be weak. I didn't want to be at her mercy.

_Does she think she can just come along and make me do whatever she wants — that she can make me give in so easily? All this time, I've worked to earn the respect of the council and the pack. I've given up everything I've ever wanted, been responsible and carried the burden of my people on my back — and for what? To watch the Elders smirk and snicker when I asked for their help getting to Bella, like they expected it? To have to worry about how Jared and Paul will laugh behind my back because of who Bella's been with? To be brought to my knees by a tiny woman? — I don't think so._

"Answer me, damn it!" I seethed. "What kind of game are you playing with me?"

Her eyes flew open wide and darted back and forth between mine. She was coming to understand the situation for what it was, and she looked terrified … of me.

The fear in her eyes brought me back from the verge of phasing. I hadn't realized it until then, but I was trembling with rage, a dangerous thing to let happen with Bella in my arms.

"I … I need you," she said with a breathy gasp. Then, I watched as her spirit crumbled once again and tears welled up in her eyes. "I … don't know why, but I just do."

With her words of despair, all of my fury evaporated.

_Oh, God! I could have hurt her._

I clutched her to me protectively and guided her head to my shoulder, hushing her as I kissed her temple.

"It's all right," I told her, reassuring us both as I brushed her hair away from her face. "I'm sorry."

"Don't go," she pleaded, clinging to me.

"I'm right here, doll face." I hugged her tightly as she sniffled into my neck. "I'm not going anywhere."

I knew then that I had acted foolishly, risking her safety and taking my anger about the imprint out on her. The girl in my arms was not to blame for my present situation. She didn't ask for this any more than I did, and to know that I could have hurt her … Inexcusable.

Bella lifted her head and looked at me with a flicker of hope in her eyes. "You won't leave?"

"No," I told her. "As long as you need me, I'm here." Then, I leaned down and kissed her. Just small, soft pecks at first, simply wanting to assure her that I was there to stay and wouldn't hurt her. She responded, and the pecks turned into long languid strokes as our lips melded together — slow and easy. When I felt the tension leave her body, I pulled away and waited for her eyes to find mine.

"Just promise me one thing?"

She nodded, waiting.

"We keep this between us. No one else knows."

Bella's brows knit together in confusion.

"If your father found out …"

Understanding played across her face.

"I won't tell," she promised.

"Good. It'll be our little secret."

I kissed her again for a long time, doing a thorough job of it before I put her down and sent her inside so I could do my work.

I knew eventually the pack would find out about my imprint, and someday, I would have to tell Bella something about what this was between us. But, as the weight of the inevitable finally settled down around me, I decided that if this was going to happen between us, whether I wanted it to or not, then it was going to happen on my terms.

I was in control.


	8. Chapter 8: Terrified

**A/N:** Thank you to Itsange and Raindropsoup at PTB. Time is a precious thing, and I'm grateful they spent theirs on my little story.

Chapter Eight: Terrified

Bella's POV:

I was terrified.

I didn't want to let Sam out of my sight. I didn't want to do what he said by going inside and waiting for him to finish putting up Charlie's storm windows. He promised he wouldn't leave me, but I had heard those words before.

"_**I'm not going anywhere. I'll be here as long as you need me." **_

_He _had said those words to me in the hospital after James had bitten me. Turned out _he_ was a liar, and I learned the hard way that promises were meant to be broken.

I couldn't let that happen with Sam. Not now. Not after last night.

I knew when I woke up this morning that I was different, that those moments spent with Sam in Charlie's kitchen had changed me. Not only had I had my first full night's rest in months, but I had also woken with the same sense of expectation that had been lingering in the back of my mind since I ran into Sam at Thriftway. It was like there was something more for me, something waiting for me just out of reach. All I had to do was figure out the riddle, and then I would be … well, I knew I could never be happy. There was no possibility that any of my dreams of a life full of love and family would ever come true — _he _had taken all of that with him when he left. Nonetheless, there was a spark of something positive, and I felt as if I had been changed by it literally overnight. And it was all because of Sam. There was more to him, more to us, than the simple distraction I had first thought him to be.

Maybe I was deluding myself. Maybe I was just so desperate for something — _anything_ to fix the empty, aching hole in my chest that I imagined there was some sort of connection between us. I wouldn't have been the first girl to get confused by her emotions after sharing a physical encounter with someone. But, after last night, I did feel a connection to Sam. Everything about being with him seemed to awaken the woman in me. His size, his confidence, his smell, the way he treated me like a lady one minute and touched me like I was the sexiest girl he'd ever seen the next. He even called me "pretty girl." No one had ever done that before.

_Does he really think that — that I'm a pretty girl?_

I had never really felt like one until last night. It had never felt like that was part of who I was. I was smart, clumsy and a little too mature for someone my age, but I was never the pretty girl. In fact, I always felt kind of invisible until coming to Forks. Then, _he_ noticed me, and instead of his attention bolstering my confidence, it only managed to be a daily reminder of how inadequate I was. I didn't even try to compare myself to that kind of beauty, and the way he left just reinforced my belief that I was somehow inferior. But even before coming to live with Charlie, I had never been one of those girls who put a ton of effort into primping, not until this morning anyway. I had always taken the time to keep myself neat and clean — something I had been neglecting lately, but fussing over the way I looked just hadn't seemed important until now. This morning I wanted to look good for Sam because last night when he said I was pretty, it made me _feel_ pretty. I wanted to hang on to that feeling because him saying I was pretty felt really … wonderful.

In fact, being with Sam made me feel so good that I spent most of my time at school thinking about him, not only replaying his kisses and how turned on I was by his hands on my skin, but also how he looked at me like I was precious and made me feel desirable. When the final bell rang, I found myself hurrying to my truck, anxious to see if he would be at Charlie's when I got there. I wanted to pick up where we left off last night. I needed to feel Sam's touch again, to hear his deep voice. He was truly becoming like a drug to me; the longer I went without him, the more I began to crave him— to the point that the need to see him became almost overwhelming.

When I got home, I noticed Sam's truck was parked across the street. I took my book bag inside and went looking for him, finding him out back in Charlie's shed. He seemed surprised to see me at first, actually banging his head on the doorway and knocking over a stack of paint cans with the ladder when he saw me. He was his normal grumpy self as I tried not to laugh, but it was kind of comical to watch big, strong Sam Uley have a clownish moment. Anyway, I tried to help him clean up the mess he made in Charlie's shed, but, as usual, I only managed to hurt myself by knocking my head into his.

Sam's gruffness instantly turned into concern when I cried out in pain. After he steadied me, his gaze became trained on my face as he placed his hands on my cheeks so he could inspect the damage to my forehead. He was standing so close, and he smelled so good, like spicy soap and man and autumn leaves. I was hypnotized, the knot on my head forgotten as I stared up into his dark eyes, his warm breathe lightly wafting across my face.

Perhaps, it was because of the blow to my head or the combination of his large, calloused hands gently cradling my face, and his minty breath mingling with my own so that I could almost taste him, but my head began to swim, and my legs became weak. I simply couldn't resist a second longer. Consequences be damned, I launched myself at him, smashing my lips to his and flinging my arms around his neck.

He eagerly returned my embrace, crushing me to him as his hot mouth covered mine. Any uncertainty I had about initiating our kiss instantly disintegrated as he once again took control of my body, lifting me up and wrapping my legs around him. He kissed me almost frantically, like he was trying to make me a part of him — holding me tight, kissing me hard, rubbing himself against my private places so that I thought I would die if he stopped. It was an overload of sensation — moist kisses, scratchy stubble, strong arms, and iron hardness. I was delightfully lost.

I felt Sam tug at my hair, pulling away from our kiss, his voice grazing the edges of my awareness.

_What is he talking for? He needs to be kissing me. _

"Answer me, damn it!" He seethed. "What kind of game are you playing with me?"

The hatred in his voice and the way his body trembled with rage broke through my lust-fueled euphoria, plummeting me back to reality.

_What did I do wrong? He doesn't want this? He doesn't want me?_

I thought he was enjoying himself. I thought he was just as into it as I was, but then he got so angry — like it had suddenly occurred to him who he was kissing and how stupid that was. In the course of an instant, I went from being blissful to being on the brink of despair. With the hateful look on his face and the way his muscles had tensed up, a normal girl would have feared violence from him, but I didn't care about my safety. The only thing I could think was that he might leave me there and never come back.

_If he leaves, I don't think I'll be able to survive. I can't do it alone anymore. It hurts too much._

"I … I need you," I tried to explain while fighting back my tears. "I don't know why, but I just do."

I watched his face soften immediately at my words, his anger seeming to fade, replaced by regret — for what, I wasn't sure.

_Is he sorry he kissed me?_

I couldn't hold back from crying any longer as he gently guided my head to his shoulder and kissed my temple comfortingly.

As I clung desperately to him, I realized the weight of the words I had spoken. I _needed hi_m. I had crossed a line with him, and there was no going back. My routine would no longer be enough to keep my head above water. Sam had become my life preserver, and if I lost him now, I was going to drown.

"It's all right," he told me, brushing my hair from my face. "I'm sorry."

"Don't go," I pleaded.

"I'm right here, doll face," he assured me, hugging me to him tightly. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You won't leave?"

"No," he said. "As long as you need me, I'm here."

I supposed he meant his words to be a comfort to me, but hearing them caused an eerily familiar, icy fear to twist in my gut. Then he leaned down and kissed me. Just small, soft pecks at first — him trying to assure me that he was still going to stay with me, that he wouldn't hurt me. I let him, choosing to relax and trying to enjoy his attentions while I could. I suspected I was now on borrowed time, and he confirmed my belief with his next request.

"Just promise me one thing? " I nodded, waiting. "We keep this between us. No one else knows." He paused when I didn't reply right away. "If your father found out …" he started to explain, but he didn't look me in the eyes.

I understood immediately. He was using Charlie as an excuse.

_He's ashamed of me. He is sorry he kissed me._

After last night, it stung a bit to be reminded of how little he thought of me. I thought he felt it too — the connection between us — but he had made it clear from the get-go that he didn't like me, so I didn't see a reason not to agree to his request if it meant he'd continue being with me.

"I won't tell," I promised.

"Good. It'll be our little secret."

He seemed relieved, his lips returning to mine as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. But, as his mind was put at ease, mine became uncertain.

_He's having second thoughts about this. I can't let him put an end to this before it even starts. What can I do to make him want me? _

Apparently, a few curls in my hair and a little mascara wasn't enough. I needed to figure out what he liked and what would hold his interest.

_What do other women do to attract and keep a man? __He is only a man after all — not a supernatural being or someone so high above me that I wouldn't stand a chance._

_I can do this._

_I **have** to do this! _

I knew if I didn't he would leave me — despite his promises — taking with him the last bit of my sanity.

That was when I decided to seduce Sam Uley.


	9. Chapter 9: Temptation

A/N: I would like to thank RainDropSoup and Remylebeauishot at PTB. They're generous with their time, knowledge and encouragement. If only everyone was as kind - just think how wonderful the world would be.

***The very talented Goldengirl2707 at Jacob Black-n-Pack and Printing Paws made me an awesome banner for this story. You can check it out on my homepage. So, thank you to her as well.

Chapter Nine: Temptation

Sam's POV:

My imprint was acting strangely — and not just her normal nervous despondency, either. Something new was going on with her. The way she had been acting … it was like she was purposely trying to get under my skin and drive me crazy — and it was working.

I noticed something different about her when I first entered the front door of Chief Swan's house to find her waiting for me in the small foyer. She seemed more agitated than usual — biting her lip and wringing her hands. At first, I assumed her behavior was because she was afraid of me. I sort of expected her to be a little skittish around me after the way I behaved with her earlier in the shed. Thanks to my wolf alter ego, I was an imposing dude — easily more than twice her size and solid muscle. It wasn't uncommon for grown men to give me a wide berth, and Bella was the epitome of small and fragile. She would have been stupid to not be cautious of a man like me, let alone the danger my wolf posed that she wasn't even aware of. Still, it didn't feel right that she was afraid of me. The part of me that wanted to provide for her every need also wanted her to think I was the one person she could always count on, that would never harm her. Judging by the way she was looking at me and shuffling her feet, that wasn't the case.

"Hey," I said softly, not wanting to make her feel threatened. I offered my hand to her, palm up, letting her choose whether or not to take it and accept my touch.

"Hey," she said in return, her voice unsure. The lightness and giggles that she had greeted me with earlier in the shed were gone, but she placed her hand in mine anyway, with only a small hesitation. I looked down at our joined hands, once again amazed at how she responded to her skin being touched by mine, her posture relaxing instantly. I ran my thumb across the scrapes on the tiny knuckles of her right hand. Two days after hurting them on the bathroom tile, they were scabbed over and healing well, their presence a reminder of how careful I would always need to be with her — and how careful I almost wasn't with her.

_I'm a fucking tool. I can never lose my temper like that again. Never._

She was my imprint — my supposed soul mate. If I had been given a choice in the matter, it would have been someone else. But I hadn't been given a choice, and now every breath I took was for her. Even though I had no interest in a romantic relationship with her, her safety needed to always be my first consideration. I could never let myself forget that again.

"Do you want me to come in?" I asked, not wanting to assume anything after the way I behaved.

"Yes, please," she answered sweetly, looking up at me bashfully.

_She really is kind of cute. Just don't get too attached. Keep it casual. Some kissing and a little cuddling __are all she needs — nothing more. _

"Okay, just let me go get washed up," I suggested before turning to remove my flannel work shirt and hanging it up on one of the hooks next to the door. When I turned back to Bella, her wide eyes were staring at my T-shirt covered chest. I would have liked to have made a cocky comment about her liking what she saw, but with the way her eyebrows were knit together worriedly, I wasn't sure if she was staring appreciatively, or if my size and abundance of muscles actually scared her.

"You okay?" I asked, not quite sure what to make of her anxious expression.

"Huh? Oh. Yeah. Fine," she stammered, her eyes never rising to meet mine. "I'll … ah … just wait for you in the living room." She pulled her gaze away from body and disappeared quickly around the corner like a frightened mouse.

I washed up and went looking for Bella in the living room to find her standing in front of the couch, once again nervously chewing her lip and wringing her hands. Sitting in the spot she indicated, I patted my leg, encouraging her to join me. She hesitated at first, but eventually she eased herself awkwardly onto my lap where I wrapped her tight in my arms. We both sighed contentedly as her head fell to my shoulder, and my cheek came to rest on the top of her head. I might not have liked the girl, but I sure as hell liked the way it felt to hold her.

"When will Charlie be home?" I didn't want to be caught off guard like the night before.

"He's usually home for dinner by six if he doesn't get held up."

We were quiet for a few more minutes, neither of us feeling the need to fill the silence, but my need to care for her caused me to wonder. "Did you eat today?"

"Yeah, some," she replied. "It's not as easy without you."

It was a problem that I couldn't be with her every second of the day to make sure she was eating properly. If I could be, I would, but that wasn't feasible. Instead, I had to think of a way to motivate her to take care of herself in my absence.

"Is there anything I can do to make it easier for you?" I asked, distractedly twisting one of the curls in her long hair around my finger.

"Um. Well, I … I liked it when you kissed me last night," she said shyly. "I slept better … you know … after that."

That little tidbit wasn't news to me. After all, I had sat outside her window last night and watched that for myself. But after what happened last night in the kitchen and today in the shed, I wanted to slow things down a little between us physically. I knew how easy it was for the imprint to cause us to get carried away. But if kissing her was the only way to help her, then what choice did I have?

"So, if I give you more kisses, you think you would be able to eat your dinner for me?"

Her eyes became wide and excited as she quickly lifted her head from my shoulder and turned to face me. "We could give it a try," she said hopefully.

"Yeah," I agreed, a little startled by her sudden enthusiasm. "We could try."

Over the last two days I had come to find Bella's behavior always full of contradictions — acting like a scared little girl who was afraid to hold my hand or sit in my lap one minute, then switching to a woman eager to experience whatever sexual relief I had to offer the next. The strangest thing about it was how whether she was at one extreme or the other, she always seemed to have an innocence about her. I would have almost thought she was a virgin had I not known better — but I did know better. I just decided to put aside any thoughts about her screwing around with the bloodsucker and get on with kissing her before they could piss me off.

When I pulled her close, she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and leaned forward expectantly. She obviously wasn't interested in taking it slow, but I had to be careful. I took my time, not wanting the chemistry between us to influence my judgment like it had before. I wanted to keep control, only doing what I needed to do to help her.

The power of the imprint had its own agenda though, demanding that I take the opportunity to look at her face. I noticed how long her eyelashes were, how they feathered like angel's wings over her cheeks when she blinked. Compelled to feel her skin, I ran the backs of my fingers over the apple of her cheek, savoring how soft it was. Unable to resist the draw any longer, I slid my fingers to the back of her neck and leaned in to kiss her puffy, pink lips.

I kissed her softly, slowly — just a little tickle as my lips ever so slightly grazed hers. I kept my eyes open at first so I could watch her face as she surrendered to me, her eyes closing and her skin becoming flushed. I could feel her melting into me, her tiny body fitting perfectly in my arms. I closed my eyes and deepened the kiss, but when she wove her fingers into my hair and the passion between us started to ignite, I pulled back, trying to slow things down. I had to remind myself that I was going to set the pace — that I was in control.

She pulled back from me, her eyes looking up into mine with a confused, hurt expression on her face. I ran my fingers through her hair reassuringly. I didn't want her to take my hesitancy as rejection. I wanted her. I didn't want to want her, but I fucking did. If I had been given a choice, the imprint would never have been made, and I wouldn't feel the need to be holding her or kissing her, but it wasn't about what I wanted — it never was.

It was about her, and me having the ability to help her heal. If she needed my touches and kisses, then I would give them, but nothing more. I wouldn't let myself get so caught up in my desire for her that I couldn't control my urges. There may have been an animal inside me, but that didn't mean I had to act like one. Besides, I didn't think becoming sexually involved with her was in her best interest right now.

_Just take it slow and easy. She just needs to feel wanted. Make her feel special. _

I bent to place tender kisses along the line of her jaw, showing her that she was cherished. It was my job now to build her confidence, to fix the mess that fucking leech made of her. I cradled her head as I took my lips from her jaw up to her earlobe, where I nibbled, before running my tongue along the shell of her small ear.

"You're beautiful," I whispered. With her neck bent to the side submissively, giving me an up-close view of her delicate features and the floral scent of her skin on my tongue, I realized how true it was. She was feminine, pretty — like a little doll, but her body had the curves of a woman. She was too skinny, but her tits and her ass were round and soft. I knew she needed to hear how attractive I thought she was, so I said it. And when I pulled back, the hurt look was gone from her face, replaced by a content serenity.

Her hooded eyes returned to mine, and I saw something there that sent chills down my spine — something unexpected. It was like she was looking into my soul with those big brown eyes of hers, seeing behind my walls and laying me bare.

I didn't like it.

I felt vulnerable, like I was at her mercy. I prided myself on being a tough, strong leader, and I thought I was in command of this encounter, but I suddenly felt powerless. I was so caught up in meeting her needs that I hadn't considered that by slowing things down and treating her tenderly I was exposing myself to her, that she could take advantage of the intimacy. It made me falter, second-guessing what was happening between us.

That was when Bella really surprised me. It was like she was waiting for an opening, a chance to turn the tables on me. She took over, using my uncertainty to continue where I left off, with her fingers reaching up to touch my cheek. I sat helplessly, watching her expressions as she curiously explored my face with her fingers, feather-light along my cheekbone, over my chin and up to my eyebrows, as if she was memorizing me. Her touch was hypnotic. It stilled me; I could only watch and feel. My breath locked in my chest as she leaned into me, imitating my actions by kissing along my jaw and up to my ear where she nibbled and licked. She had to know what she was doing to me, how she was tempting me — teasing me with her warm breath in my ear and soft her lips kissing down my neck.

_Oh, I am so fucked_.

My fists clinched at her waist, and my eyes rolled back at the sensations she incited. It was no longer only physical. She was touching something buried inside me that was better left alone. That shit was on lockdown for a reason, and I never wanted to experience it again. But I wasn't expecting her to have such an effect on me, to make me _feel_ again. She made both my hardened heart and my cock ache. The mixed sensations of being completely exposed to her emotionally, and so hard and ready for her physically, were more than I could handle. My body trembled, not with rage, but with the power of my need for her.

I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths, fighting to reign in my desire to lay her down and have my dick buried inside of her, truly making her mine. When I opened them, Bella had pulled back to watch me warily. She didn't look scared — thank Christ — just unsure, waiting for my reaction. I didn't know what to do because the only way I knew how to reassure her was to kiss her, and that wasn't going to help with my physical control or the unexpected emotions she had unleashed.

So, I did what any red-blooded man would do — I panicked.

"I think I should get going," I said, hurriedly removing her hands from around my neck.

"Oh. Okay." She sounded confused and a little panicked herself as I scooted her off my lap and made a beeline for the front door.

"Will you be back tomorrow?" she asked anxiously as she followed me to the door.

I stopped to grab my shirt and glanced at Bella fluttering around behind me, obviously distressed by my abrupt departure.

"Yeah, of course." I said, feigning nonchalance, before I quickly bent down and kissed her cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow."

I didn't want her to think she had done something wrong, but it was like she unwittingly knew exactly what to do to get under my skin, to provoke and excite me. In the course of half an hour spent with Bella, she had managed to almost break my resolve. If I hadn't left then, I couldn't have been held responsible for my actions.

I had never been so grateful for my supernatural speed.

~*~*~ S&B ~*~*~

The next day was even worse than the last. When Bella answered the door, she was not only wearing her hair in those fucking bouncy curls, but she had also made a change to her attire. Gone were the depressing baggy pants and oversized shirts of the last couple months. Today she wore a tight blue shirt that hugged her perky tits and these snug, dark jeans that showed off her tight ass and shapely legs.

_Fuck! She's trying to torture me._

"You came back," she said, smiling and looking relieved.

"I said I would, didn't I?" I sounded irritated, and I was. She couldn't have known I spent every second since I left her the day before thinking about all the ways I wanted her, how I had worked all night to tamp down the part of me that wanted to get to know her as a person as well as the part that wanted to claim her body. She couldn't have known those things, but wearing that getup was an obvious attempt to goad me in some way.

"Yeah, I guess you did." She looked down, deflated and uncertain.

_Shit. I did it again._

It was becoming painful to see her hurt expressions every time I said something stupid or insensitive. It was just hard to not be a prick to her when she made me think and feel things I didn't want any part of. Like how I wanted her naked underneath me, looking adoringly up at me with those big brown eyes of hers while I showed her _all _the ways I could take care of her.

"Do you want to come in?" Her small voice startled me from what had recently become an ongoing fantasy.

"Okay."

I stepped into Charlie's house only to be assaulted by the smell of something baking. "What's that smell?" I looked over Bella's head toward the source of the homey aroma, the kitchen.

"Oh. I just made some cookies. Would you like one?"

_Fuck yeah, __I'd like one_.

"Sure," I accepted politely. "That'd be cool."

I followed her to the kitchen and helped myself to a seat at the small table in front of the window while Bella filled a plate with cookies and poured me a glass of milk. I watched her the whole time, noticing the way her hips swayed as she moved about the small space. I had to fight the urge to stand behind her and grab those same hips when she bent over to remove — and then again to replace — the milk carton from the fridge.

_There's no way she's not doing that on purpose — not the way she's displaying that perfect ass for me. No way._

There was definitely something strange going on with my imprint. Between yesterday's teasing and today's flaunting of her _ass_-sets, I was beginning to wonder what she was thinking in that pretty little head of hers. By the time she brought the cookies and milk over to me, my dick was so hard I was torn between tearing into the chocolate chip goodness she was offering or tearing off her shirt and getting another taste of her. The way she was standing right in front of me with her chest right at eye level, all curvy and supple; I decided to give in to both desires by pulling her into my lap where she belonged and taking a cookie from the plate simultaneously.

Bella squeaked in surprise but didn't question my behavior like she did the other night. Instead, she only managed to set the cookies and milk down on the table without spilling anything while I pulled her in close with one hand and stuffed a whole cookie in my mouth with the other.

_My two favorite things — holding my imprint and good food. Fucking heaven. _

I enjoyed a few more cookies and a swig of milk while Bella watched me and shimmied herself as close as she could into my chest. I mmm'd and nodded appreciatively at both her amazing baking skills and the way her finger began to trace the skin along the collar of my shirt.

"I have to work all day tomorrow," she said sadly. "I won't get to see you."

"Yeah," I acknowledged. "I have to get some post holes dug for your dad's front ramp anyway."

"Oh. Okay."

I think she was disappointed that I didn't offer some kind of solution, but we both had other obligations. As much as I'd like to spend all day everyday just as we were — with her snuggled up against me while I ate obscene amounts of her baked goods — it simply wasn't an option. Besides, the whole goal of me helping her was to make it possible for her to have a normal, happy life again, independent of me as well as the bloodsucker. That, and I was beginning to feel a little too content in her company — something I desperately wanted to avoid. Some space would do us both some good.

"And Sunday I have plans, so that's out too," I added.

She pushed away and looked up at me, alarmed.

"But … but …" She started to sputter and shake her head back and forth, working herself up into a fit. I could see the waterworks starting. The timid, insecure side of Bella was back with a vengeance.

"It'll be all right," I told her, cradling her cheek with one hand and stroking the hair away from her face soothingly with the other. "I know you like seeing me, but you'll be fine, and I'll be back on Monday."

"Monday?" she asked with her lower lip jutting out and a tear brimming over.

"Yeah. That's only two days. No big deal. Right, doll face?" I used my thumb to wipe away the tear as it slid down her cheek.

"Right." She nodded in agreement, putting on a brave face. "No big deal."

_She's a trooper, I'll give her that_.

By the time Charlie was due home and I had to say goodbye, Bella was like putty in my hands — all soft and pliant and melded against me. I had kissed her over and over and over again, never becoming passionate, just slow and lingering — comforting and reassuring. I wanted her to still feel my kisses come Monday, to get her through until I saw her again. When I finally drove away in my truck, she watched from the window, her hand on the glass.

Turns out two days was a long fucking time to be away from my imprint. After the last few days of feeling her skin against mine and tasting her sweet mouth, it was hard to take a step back. Of course, I really wasn't away from her the whole time. I still watched her that night and then snuck away to check on her on Saturday while she worked — which, in retrospect, may have been a mistake.

She left for work before I arrived at Charlie's, so I didn't get to see her leave. Imagine my surprise when I did see her, and she was wearing a getup similar to the day before — a tight pair of jeans and an even tighter top that did this scoopy thing that showed the top of her tits. Did she not notice that most of the customers at Newton's were male? Well, I fucking did. Normally when I checked on her, I stayed out of sight along the tree line next to the parking lot. That way when she took her breaks and ate her lunch in her truck, I could watch her. After seeing what she was wearing, I couldn't go back to Charlie's to finish my work. I spent the rest of the day listening to guy after guy come out of Newton's talking about "the hottie" who worked there. It took every ounce of self-control I had to stay hidden and not bust the face of the guy who had the balls to ask his friend if he thought he should go back in and ask for her number — fucking douchebag. Needless to say, I followed her home to make sure she got there without one of those dickwads trying to accost her.

That night, I sat outside her window, thinking about all the shit that had happened between us the last few days — how nothing was going as planned. I had thought I could remain aloof — detached. Instead, I was feeling things for her that I had no intention of feeling when I first initiated contact — things I didn't _want_ to feel. I had expected to feel protective; it came with being a spirit warrior. The pack looked out for each other and the tribe, but this was more than being willing to sacrifice my life for the safety of another. And it was more than just sexual desire, which I was now feeling in spades for the little leech-lover. I could have bullshitted myself and said it was something new and different, but it wasn't. I had felt that way before, and it sucked. Nothing good ever came from those feelings. The way I reacted earlier at the thought of her being with another guy was a perfect example — who wants to feel that jealousy shit?

Since phasing, I hadn't let myself feel much of anything except angry. I liked angry. Nobody could touch me when I was angry. Until Bella. Whether it was the imprint doing its thing or Bella herself, it didn't matter. I was starting to care about this girl — beginning to want her to care about me. In my opinion, that was a stupid rookie move. What made it worse was I knew I was in this for the long haul. She was it. There would never be anyone else in my eyes. The imprint made sure of that. It wasn't that I felt cheated out of any future relationships with other women because I was never planning on becoming involved with anyone ever again anyway. I had planned on living out the rest of my life with my brothers — the pack. That was my family.

But now there was Bella — a girl who had obvious issues with emotional stability. Women were fickle in general, but this girl was blowing in the breeze. The way she was throwing herself at me and wearing provocative clothing — it was clear to me now that she was looking for a distraction, a quick fuck. I got that, and I knew I could give her one. We could have a little fun — take her mind off her broken heart. After all, I'd done my fair share of screwing around after things with Leah went sour. But where would that leave me? After I had put everything I had into her, and she was over the bloodsucking motherfucker and ready to move on, how would she feel about me? She could simply walk away, leaving me behind to go on with her life. I was strong, but I instinctively knew that was a pain I couldn't bear — another humiliation I couldn't endure.

_No. I won't let that happen. _

As I looked at her sleeping face through the window, I realized that I had already let myself become too attached to her, that I had crossed a line and there was no going back. Even though I didn't want to, I needed her. And if I wanted to survive, I had to find a way to keep her, to make her want to stay with me forever. As far as I could see, there was only one way to get that done. I was going to have to do something I swore I would never have anything to do with again.

Come Monday, I was going to get Bella Swan to fall in love with me.


End file.
